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THE  COLLECTION  OF 
NORTH  CAROLINIANA 


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UNIVERSITY  OF  N.C.  AT  CHAPEL 


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THE  LIFE  OF  A  SUFFERER: 


An  Autobiography 

BY 

Rev.  Joseph  Hamilton  Fesperman, 


What  I  do  thou  knowest  not  now  ; 
but  thou  shalt  know  hereafter." 

—St.  John  13 :  7. 

"  Even  so,  Father,  for  so  it 

seemed  good  in  Thy  sight." 

— .S7.  Luke  10  :  21 . 


With  an  introduction  by 

REV.  F.  W.  E.  PESCHAU,  D.  D., 

Pastor  St.  Paul's  Evangelical  Lutheran  Church,  Wilmington, 
N.  C,  and  Associate  Editor  of  The  Lutheran  Visitor. 


Published  for  the  Author  by 

THE  YOUNG  LUTHERAN  COMPANY, 

UTICA,  N.  Y. 


)#?Z. 


L.  C.  Childs  &  Son, 

Printers  and  Binders, 

utica,  n.  v. 


0- 

on 


TO 

MY  DEVOTED  WIFE 

WHOSE  TRUE  HEART  HAS  NEVER  FALTERED 

AND  WHOSE  GENTLE  FOOTSTEPS 

HAVE  NEVER  WEARIED 

IN  THE  PATHWAY  OF  LOVE 

FOR  TWENTY  AND  SIX  YEARS, 

IS  THIS  VOLUME  LOVINGLY  DEDICATED 

BY  AN 

AFFECTIONATE  HUSBAND. 


PREFACE. 

In  venturing  to  give  this  work  to  the  public,  the 
author  complies  with  repeated  and  earnest  solicita- 
tions, and  he  owes  it  to  those  who  may  become  his 
readers,  not  less  than  to  himself,  to  explain  the  cir- 
cumstances under  which  the  book  was  prepared. 

In  September,  1891,  when  he  was  making 
arrangements  to  visit  Baltimore,  Md.,  to  undergo 
a  critical  surgical'  operation,  he  was  advised 
by  physicians,  ministers,  and  laymen  to  defer  the 
operation,  and  was  requested  to  write  an  account  of 
his  birth,  education,  ministry,  misfortunes  and 
varied  afflictions.  Believing  the  desire  of  his  friends 
to  be  an  indication  of  the  will  of  God,  he  com- 
menced preparing  this  unpretentious  volume,  every 
page  of  which  has  been  written  under  the  depressive 
influence  of  intense  pain,  and  consecrated  to  God  in 
prayers  and  tears.  These  tears,  prayers  and  pur- 
poses in  all  this  patient  labor  have  been  like 
David's,  who  at  the  lowest  point  of  his  fortunes 
plaintively  besought  God,  "  Put  Thou  my  tears 
into  Thy  bottle,"  and  exclaimed  in  the  same  breath, 
"  Thy  vows  are  upon  me,  O  God,  I  will  render 
praises  unto  Thee."  However  imperfectly  the 
writer  may  have  accomplished  his  purpose  in  briefly 


recording  the  history  of  his  life — and  he  feels  it  to 
have  been  done  most  inadequately— to  magnify 
Christian  patience  and  to  praise  God  in  the  furnace 
of  affliction  have  been  the  theme  of  his  thoughts 
and  the  mainspring  of  his  design.  Committing  this 
book  to  his  family  and  brethren,  and  believing  that 
at  the  gate  of  the  kingdom  of  Paradise  the  afflic- 
tions and  troubles  of  this  life  will  be  left  behind 
and  forgotten  by  those  who  go  in  and  rest,  he  re- 
mains, in  pain  and  patience,  peace  and  love,  faith 
and  hope,  J.  H.  FESPERMAN. 

Barium  Springs,  N.  C. 


INTRODUCTION. 

Heroic  suffering  must  ever  command  ardent  ad- 
miration and  call  forth  sublime  sympathy.  The 
iron  grasp  of  pain,  in  view  of  no  deliverance  except 
by  death,  is  one  of  life's  severest  ordeals.  Sleepless 
nights  that  lead  to  the  all  more  sleepless  days,  are 
not  only  the  longest,  but  also  dreariest  and  most 
depressing  in  all  earthly  existence,  and  when  we 
find  a  u  hero  of  faith  in  God,''  that  endures  all,  goes 
through  all,  unmurmuringly — willing  to  suffer  and 
willing  to  die,  as  it  may  best  please  or  most  honor 
God,  we  come  to  one  that  deserves  and  should  re- 
ceive our  sincere  sympathy  and  support.  And,  such 
a  sufferer,  such  a  hero,  Pastor  Fesperman  is.  He 
has  learned  to  heed,  illustrate  and  carry  out  the 
motto  of  Emperor  Frederick  II.,  that  was  wrung 
from  suffering,  royal,  quivering  lips  amid  the  glories 
of  a  palace,  when  he  said,  "  Learn  to  suffer  pa- 
tiently." Weighed  down  by  physical  ailments,  cast 
down  upon  his  couch  by  the  horrors  and  dread 
effect  of  an  unfortunate  accident,  he  lay  helpless, 
but  not  hopeless,  in  the  humble,  but  neat  and  cosy 
cottage  generous  givers  provided  him  with,  and 
whilst  the   light  of   life  ofttimes  only  flickered,  he 


looked  to  and  called  upon  God,  and  as  in  the  agony 
of  the  Garden  of  Gethsemane,  from  high  heaven 
down  amid  the  starlight,  help  and  strength  came  to 
Christ,  so  help  and  strength  came  to  our  brother,  a 
'\joint  heir  with  Christ."  He  realized  fully  and 
often,  "My  grace  is  sufficient  for  thee." 

In  all  the  records  of  ministerial  suffering  in  our 
great  Lutheran  Zion  in  America,  this  book  of  Pas- 
tor Fesperman  will  ever  be  one  of  the  most  mem- 
orable, most  worthy  and  most  deserving.  Person- 
ally he  enjoys  the  esteem  of  the  community  in 
which  he  lives  and  has  suffered.  And  so  has  the 
North  Carolina  Synod,  again  and  again,  given  ex- 
pression to  its  kind  interest  in  him,  by  deeds  of  love. 
Good  people  throughout  the  length  and  breadth  of 
the  land,  like  so  many  angels  of  mercy,  have  nobly 
come  to  his  relief.  As  this  has  been  the  case,  so 
may  it  be  now,  as  he  puts  forth  this  effort  and  sends 
out  this  well-written  and  intensely  interesting  book 
from  the  home  of  his  sufferings,  that  many  all  over 
our  land  will  secure  and  use  it,  and  learning  of  the 
sad  sufferings  of  one  of  God's  ministering  servants, 
help  and  encourage  him  while  life  lasts,  and  at  the 
same  time  thank  God  for  their  health,  strength  and 
unimpaired  powers. 

When  we  learn  and  remember  that  in  the  last  two 
years  he  has  lost  in  weight  48  pounds,  we  may  form 
an  idea  of  how  intense  his  sufferings  have  been. 


As  the  dove  of  Noah  came  to  him  bringing  the 
cheering  tokens  of  new  life  and  new  help  for  him, 
so  may  the  book  of  Pastor  Fesperman  bring  him 
new  cheer,  new  help  and  new  friends. 

F.  W.  E.  PESCHAU, 

Pastor  St.  Paul! s  Evangelical  Lutheran  Church,  and 
Associate   Editor  "  The  Lutheran    Visitor"    Wil- 
mington, N.  0. 
June  18,  1892. 


CHAPTER  I. 

I  was  born  in  Salisbury,  N.  C,  July  7th,  1841. 
My  parents,  Cynthia  and  Michael  Fesperman,  were 
members  of  the  Lutheran  Church.  When  I  was 
seven  years  old,  my  father,  who  was  a  mechanic, 
purchased  a  plantation  in  Rowan  county,  and  I 
began  work  on  the  farm  at  a  very  early  age.  When 
thirteen,  I  was  thrown  from  a  horse,  and  my  right 
leg  was  broken  in  two  places.  This  accident  occurred 
during  the  hot  weather,  in  August,  and  1  lay  six 
weeks  under  the  care  of  a  surgeon  who  managed  my 
case  with  such  ability  as  to  prevent  lameness  in 
after  life. 

The  first  night  after  I  was  hurt  I  gave  myself, 
body  and  soul,  to  God  in  prayer.  Although  a  mere 
boy,  I  had  read  the  Bible  enough  to  know  that 
David's  deepest  repentance  dared,  to  ask,  "Make 
me  to  hear  joy  and  gladness  that  the  bones  which 
Thou  has  broken  may  rejoice."  Young  as  I  was,  I 
had  read  and  remembered  that  an  ancient  monarch, 
a  distinguished  warrior  and  poet,  as  well  as  an  emi- 
nently holy  man,  once  used  this  language,  "  I  sought 
the  Lord,  and  he  heard  me  and  delivered  me  from 
all  my  fears."  "  The  angel  of  the  Lord  encampeth 
round  about  them  that  fear  him  and  delivereth  them." 
44  Call  upon  me  in  the  day  of  trouble ;  I  will  deliver 
2 


18  THE  LIFE  OF  A  SUFFERER. 

thee,  and  thou  shalt  glorify  me."  Claiming  these 
promises,  rny  troubled  utterances  of  sore  need,  my 
sighs  and  groans  of  intense  suffering  were  accom- 
panied by  a  faith  which  had  no  doubts,  and  which 
felt  the  beautiful  summers  sun  of  peace,  even  in  the 
mid  winter  of  awful  pain.  I  have  never  known 
anj^thing  greater,  wiser,  better,  for  man  to  do  in 
trouble  and  calamity,  than  to  believe  God's  Word 
and  trust  Christ  for  all  needed  strength  and  guidance- 
While  I  was  confined  to  bed  I  carefully  read  the 
Bible,  Book  of  Martyrs,  Pilgrim's  Progress,  Alleine's 
Alarm,  Pollock's  Course  of  Time,  and  the  Life  of 
Whitfield  and  that  of  Wesley.  After  I  was  able  to 
lay  my  crutches  aside,  I  remained  on  the  farm,  but 
my  mind  constantly  dwelt  on  the  work  of  the  min- 
stry,  and  every  d.iy  I  knelt  down  and  prayed  the 
dear  Lord  Jesus  to  hear  me  and  bless  me,  give  me  a 
strong  mind  and  fluency  of  speech,  and  help  me  to 
become  a  worthy  minister  of  the  word.  I  heard  the 
voice  of  the  Lord,  saying :  "Whom  shall  I  send,  and 
who  will  go  for  us?  Then  said  I,  Here  am  I:  send  me." 

' '  I  have  neither  gold  nor  silver, 

But  my  life  I  freely  give  ; 
I  can  point  men  to  the  Saviour, 

I  can  tell  them,  look  and  live  ! 
Weak  am  I ;  but  Thou  art  mighty, 

And  Thy  strength  my  strength  shall  be  : 
Master,  hear  me, — take  me, — use  me, — 

Here  am  1,  send  even  me." 
"  Anywhere  let  me  announce  Thy  sweet  name  ; 

Anywhere  speak  of  Thy  cross  and  Thy  shame  ; 
Anywhere  let  me  Thy  great  love  declare, — 

Oh,  let  me  work  for  Thee,  Lord,  anywhere." 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SUFFERER.  \  (J 

When  my  father  died,  I  was  left  poor  and  help- 
less ;  but  wiping  the  tears  from  my  eyes,  I  ex- 
claimed, "  My  Father  in  heaven,  I  look  to  Thee  and 
sue  for  Thy  protection  and  tenderness,  and  humbly 
pray  that  the  heart  of  my  widowed  mother  may  be 
comforted  and  that  my  precious  Saviour  may  per- 
mit her  to  survive  to  hear  me  preach  His  gospel." 
When  my  mother  complained  of  being  sick,  I 
always  ran  into  the  room  and,  falling  on  my  knees 
by  the  side  of  the  loom  where  she  wove,  I  prayed 
for  her  life,  promising  the  Lord  that  if  He  would 
spare  her,  I  would  in  return  for  His  mercy  try  to  be 
a  faithful  preacher  of  righteousness.  God  answered 
my  prayers,  permitted  her  to  hear  me  preach,  and 
prolonged  her  life  to  seventy-three  years. 

1  had  no  opportunity  to  attend  school,  but  I  read 
many  books  by  fire-light  and  acquired  much  correct 
and  useful  knowledge  by  listening  to  the  conver- 
sation of  well-informed  men.  I  made  it  a  rule,  when 
I  went  into  the  society  of  educated  people,  to  be 
quiet  and  attentive,  and  I  always  had  new  knowl- 
edge to  think  about  when  I  returned  to  my 
home  and  work.  I  owe  much  to  silence  and 
close  observation.  I  read  a  large  number 
and  a  great  variety  of  interesting  books;  and 
when  there  was  uncertainty  concerning  the  pro- 
nunciation of  a  word  I  charged  my  memory  with  it 
and  watched    until  some   educated    minister,    well 


20  THE  LIFE  OF  A  SUFFERER. 

trained  teacher  or  accomplished  public  speaker  ut- 
tered it.  Thus  I  learned  to  pronounce  hundreds  of 
words.  Knowing  that  little  upon  little,  line  upon 
line,  is  the  law  of  progress  and  achievement,  I  en- 
deavored to  observe  this  law  carefully,  faithfully, 
patiently,  unwaveringly,  doing  the  best  I  could  in 
whatever  circumstances  L  was  placed,  and  at  the 
same  time  directing  all  the  powers  of  mind  and 
body  toward  the  desired  object, — preaching. 

I  was  fond  of  history,  loved  to  attend  debating 
societies,  and  took  great  interest  in  reading  the  New 
York  Ledger,  and  much  pride  in  relating  its  stories 
to  people  about  me.  I  studied  some  theological 
books,  and  my  desire  to  preach  became  intensified. 
I  retired  to  bed  thinking  about  preaching,  I 
dreamed  of  it,  talked  in  my  sleep  concerning  it,  and 
when  I  awoke  it  was  the  first  thought  to  enter  my 
mind.  This  ardent  desire  to  preach  was  not  created 
by  a  revival  of  religion,  or  produced  by  any  im- 
pression made  on  my  mind  in  the  house  of  God,  or 
originated  by  any  person  speaking  to  me  concerning 
the  ministry,  but  was  on  my  mind  when,.on  my 
knees,  I  prayed,  "  Dear  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  spare 
the  life  ot  my  precious  mother  and  I  will  try  to 
preach  Thy  Word."  I  could  not  refrain  from 
preaching.  The  boys  of  the  neighborhood  erected 
for  me  a  pulpit,  with  steps  attached  and  a  book- 
board  on  it,  and  I  preached  to  them  in  the  woods  al- 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SUFFERER.  2  I 

most  every  Sunday  noon.  This  was  not  child's 
play.  We  had  our  Bibles  and  Hymn  Books,  and 
we  sang,  prayed  and  behaved  ourselves.  Some 
aged  men  and  their  families  attended  our  services 
and  encouraged  me  in  my  efforts,  but  there  was  no 
one  able  to  furnish  money  to  educate  me.  A  re- 
trospect of  my  whole  life,  from  the  earliest  period 
of  my  recollection  down  to  the  present  hour,  leaves 
me  with  this  impression,  that  I  have  been  and  am 
being  guided  by  a  gracious  and  mighty  Hand, 
which  has  made  and  is  making  that  possible  to  me 
which  otherwise  to  me  had  been  impossible.  The 
adveise  circumstances  by  which  I  was  surrounded 
in  early  life  all  indicated  the  impossibility  of  pre- 
paring myself  for  the  ministry.  God  gave  me  a 
retentive  mind,  tenacity  of  purpose,  something  to 
do,  something  to  love,  something  to  hope  for,  and 
inspired  me  with  heroic  aspirations  and  resolutions 
which  enabled  me  to  overcome  many  difficulties. 

1  was  invited  sometimes  to  speak  in  Methodist 
churches,  and  at  camp  meetings,  where  I  had  abund- 
ant opportunity  for  the  exercise  of  mind  and 
tongue.  I  went  in  company  with  Rev.  W.  Kim- 
ball, a  worthy  Lutheran  minister,  to  attend  a  church 
where  the  pastor,  Eev.  J.  A.  Linn,  was  conducting 
a  series  of  meetings.  After  being  present  several 
days  I  was  requested  by  the  pastor  to  preach  the 
morning  sermon.     I  asked  to  be  excused,  saying  "I 


'22  THE  LIFE  OF  A  SUFFERER. 

am  not  a  preacher,"  but  he  persisted  in  his  request 
and  replied,  "  I  will  be  responsible;  go  into  the  pul- 
pit and  preach."  He  accompanied  me  to  the  pul- 
pit, I  entered  it  and  after  preliminary  services  I  an- 
nounced these  words  as  my  text,  "  I  must  work  the 
works  of  Him  that  sent  me  while  it  is  day :  the 
night  cometh  when  no  man  can  work."  While  I 
was  in  the  midst  of  my  discourse  some  aged  men 
and  women  commenced  clapping  their  bands  and 
shouting,  and  one  young  man  ran  into  the  pulpit 
praising  God.  The  pastor  of  this  congregation  was 
my  friend  in  all  his  after  years,  and  in  his  death  his 
good  wife  lost  a  kind  husband,  his  children  an  af- 
fectionate father  and  the  Lutheran  church  an  ef- 
ficient and  pious  pastor.  Often  and  often  in  after 
years  I  have  turned  by  happv  habit  to  feel  his 
beautiful  friendship  at  hand,  only  to  remember  with 
a  fresh  touch  of  sadness  that  God  took  from  me 
that  presence  so  kind  and  so  dear.  Yet,  from  the 
very  bottom  of  my  heart  I  give  thanks  to  the  Lord 
and  Saviour,  who  has  him  in  keeping,  that  it  was 
my  honor  and  my  joy  to  know  and  to  love  Rev.  J. 
A.  Linn. 


CHAPTER  II. 

I  was  invited  by  Methodist  and  other  ministers 
to  conduct  services  and  deliver  addresses  in  their 
churches,  and  many  professed  Christ  in  these  meet- 
ings, but  some  people  said,  "  This  boy  frightens  his 
hearers,  makes  them  shout  and  faint,  and  he  has  no 
license  to  do  this."  Those  were  days  when  reviv- 
als prevailed  in  the  church.  There  were  no  evan- 
gelists. Faithful  and  laborious  pastors  generally 
held  a  series  of  meetings  in  their  churches,  which 
sometimes  continued  from  one  to  two  weeks. 
These  solemn  assemblies,  led  by  their  pastor,  prayed 
to  God  for  an  outpouring  of  His  Spirit,  and  fre- 
quently people  came  to  the  "  anxious  seat "  and  pro- 
fessed religion.  Those  were  also  days  when  mem- 
bers of  the  church  expected  their  pastors,  not 
strangers,  to  instruct  and  lead  them  in  the  way  of 
salvation,  and  every  reputable  pastor  was  re- 
quired to  hold  license  or  ordination  papers. 

Already  in  childhood  I  carefully  searched  the 
Scriptures ;  there  never  was  a  moment  when  I 
doubted  a  promise  in  God's  word,  and  my  desire  to 
preach  did  not  come  by  a  miracle  or  through  a  vis- 
ion, but  it  was  on  my  mind  and  heart  from 
childhood.  I  owe  my  desire  to  be  a  minister, to  God 
and  not  to  men.     My  prayer  was  "  O  Lord   God  of 


2-1  THE  LIFE  OF  A  SUFFERER. 

my  life,  Thou  whom  I  worshipped  at  my  mother's 
knee,  and  to  whom  my  heart  goes  up  in  trust  and 
confidence,  accept  my  life— my  hands,  my  feet,  my 
voice,  my  lips,  my  intellect,  my  will,  my  heart,  my 
love,  all  that  I  am — and  let  them  be  consecrated  to 
thee."  I  had  no  pecuniary  means  with  which  to 
educate  myself,  but  studied  with  all  my  faculties, 
concentrated  on  one  object — entrance  into  the  regu- 
lar ministry  of  the  church. 

When  the  war  between  the  north  and  south  was 
precipitated  and  entrance  into  the  army  became  un- 
avoidable, I  packed  Schmucker's  Popular  Theology, 
Gregory's  Evidences  of  Christianity,  Porter's  Homi- 
letics,  the  Lives  of  the  Ancient  Philosophers,  my 
Bible  and  Hymn  Book  into  my  knapsack,  and 
went  into  the  service  of  the  Confederacy  against  all 
my  inclinations,  but  thank  God  my  mind  was  not 
warped  by  prejudice,  and  my  heart  was  not  debased 
by  ill  will.  I  recognized  a  brother  in  every  coun- 
try and  Christians  in  every  church.  I  endured 
many  deprivations  in  the  army,  but  I  was  not  guilty 
of  taking  any  article  of  food  or  clothing.  I  refused 
to  eat  stolen  rations.  License  or  no  license,  I  in- 
tended to  preach,  and  many  times  exercised  the  tal- 
ents I  possessed  in  exhorting  the  soldiers  to  become 
Christ's  followers,  and  live  consistent  and  blameless 
lives.  Some  preferred  cards  to  these  services,  but 
not   a   few  gave   me  their  cards  to  burn  and  mani- 


THE  LIFE   OF  A  SUFFERER.  25 

fested  a  disposition  to  join  me  in   praying   for   their 
salvation. 

When  we  were  in  camp  or  in  winter  quarters  I 
gave  my  whole  time  to  theological  studies.  Rev. 
L.  A.  Bikle,  who  had  been  a  professor  of  ancient 
languages  in  North  Carolina  College,  was  chaplain 
of  the  20th  regiment  in  my  brigade.  This  dear 
brother,  an  influential  member  of  the  Evangelical 
Lutheran  Synod  of  North  Carolina,  was  a  friend  of 
mine  before  the  war  commenced;  and  when  I  was  in 
the  army,  if  I  did  not  comprehend  a  point  in  theol- 
ogy, or  did  not  know  the  correct  pronunciation  of  a 
word,  I  managed  to  get  into  his  company,  inquired 
about  what  I  desired  to  know  and  charged  my  mem- 
ory with  his  opinions.  In  this  way  I  obtained 
much  important  and  useful  information.  I  lost  my 
books  several  times,  but  secured  others  and  con- 
tinued to  pursue  my  studies,  enduring  all 
the  hardships  of  a  soldier's  life  until  I 
was  captured  in  battle  at  Chancellorsville, 
and  taken  to  Clifton  Barracks,  Washington,  D.  C. 
Here  I  preached  the  night  after  my  arrival.  While 
I  was  adressing  the  prisoners  I  was  somewhat 
startled  by  the  appearance  of  two  gentlemen,  who, 
with  their  hats  in  their  hands,  advanced  through 
the  department  to  where  I  was  speaking,  and  sat 
down  as  attentive  hearers.  After  the  service  closed, 
one  of  the  gentlemen  took  me  by  the  hand,  saying, 


26  THE  LIFE  OF  A  SUFFERER. 

"My  name  is  Colonel  Alexander,  I  am  the  com- 
mander of  these  Barracks,  and  I  will  provide  better 
quarters  and  fare  for  you :  I  do  not  think  you 
ought  to  be  among  these  rough,  hard  men."  He 
then  introduced  me  to  his  Lieutenant-Colonel,  and 
immediately  called  for  Sergeant  Halliday,  of  New 
York,  ordered  him  to  provide  good  fare  and  quar- 
ters for  me,  and  instructed  him  to  allow  me  the 
privilege  of  taking  walks  outside  the  prison  walls. 
In  these  walks  I  occasionally  met  Colonel  Alexan- 
der, and  many  times  lucrative  railroad  positions 
and  superior  educational  facilities  were  offered  to 
me ;  on  terms,  however,  that  I  could  not  conscien- 
tiously accept. 

Doubtless  at  this  period  of  my  life  my  love  for 
my  mother  and  my  home  helped  to  lay  my  entire 
future  on  the  altar  of  terrible  misfortune — helped 
to  destroy  the  incomprehensible  and  nameless  some- 
thing that  was  then  endeavouring  to  lay  at  my  feet 
the  precious,  golden  sceptre  of  success.  "  Every- 
body," the  old  proverb  says,  "  has  his  day  :  "  and  so 
every  human  being  has  at  least  his  one  opportunity. 
"  There  is  a  deep  nick  in  time's  restless  wheel  for 
each  man's  foot.''  I  now  believe  that  the  whole  of 
my  future  destiny  in  regard  to  earthly  prosperity 
depended  on  the  decision  I  made  when  the  Com- 
mander of  Clifton  Barracks,  to  induce  me  to  take 
the  oath  of  allegiance,  offered  me  a  lucrative  posi- 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SUFFERER.  27 

tion,  under  the  written  signature  of  the  President 
of  the  United  States.  This  was  the  crisis  of  my 
life;  everything  was  then  concentrated  on  a  single 
point.  The  whole  of  our  lives  often  depend  on 
some  single  action  that  shall  determine  the  charac 
ter,  and  that  shall  send  an  influence  ever  onward. 
A  right  or  wrong  decision  then  settles  everything. 
The  moment,  when  in  the  battle  at  Waterloo,  the 
Duke  of  Wellington  could  say,  "  This  will  do," 
decided  the  fate  of  battle,  and  of  kingdoms.  A 
wrong  movement  just  at  that  point  might  have 
changed  the  condition  of  the  world  for  centuries. 
In  every  man's  life  there  are  such  periods;  and 
probably  in  the  lives  of  most  men  their  future 
course  is  more  certainly  determined  by  one  such 
far-reaching  decision  than  by  many  actions  in  other 
circumstances.  There  are  moments  when  honor, 
wealth,  usefulness,  health  and  salvation  seem  all  to 
depend  on  a  single  resolution.  My  destiny,  in 
regard  to  pecuniary  advantages  and  educational 
facilities,  was  settled  adversely  by  a  single  decision 
in  prison,  when  pure  love  for  my  mother,  outweigh- 
ing all  other  considerations,  constrained  me  to 
return  home.  In  sickness  and  in  sorrow,  in  cap- 
tivity, in  any  and  all  circumstances,  my  heart 
invariably  turned  to  my  mother  and  home. 


2S  THE  LIFE  OF  A  SUFFERER. 

"  A  mother's  care,  how  sweet  the  name  ; 

What  is  a  mother's  love  ? 
A  noble,  pure  and  tender  flame 

Enkindled  from  above  : 
To  bless  a  heart  of  earthly  mould, 
The  warmest  love  that  can't  grow  cold. 

This  is  a  mother's  love.'' 

After  several  months  of  prison  life  in  Washing- 
ton city,  I  was  exchanged,  came  home  and  then 
returned  to  the  5th  North  Carolina  Kegiment,  and, 
on  account  of  general  debility,  was  detailed  as  a 
clerk  in  a  Confederate  States'  Arsenal,  located  in 
Salisbury,  N.  C.  I  had  no  connection  with  a  prison 
there.  While  in  Salisbury  I  again  began  gathering 
books  until  I  had  secured  a  nice  library  of  inter- 
esting works.  But  these  precious  treasures  were 
not  to  last  long.  Part  of  a  Division  of  United 
States  soldiers,  under  the  command  of  General 
Stoneman,  came  through  the  country,  set  fire  to  the 
Arsenal,  the  flames  reached  my  room  and  consumed 
books,  clothing,  and  all  I  possessed.  I  was  taken 
a  prisoner  and  conveyed  on  foot  through  the 
mountains  of  North  Carolina  to  Tennessee,  and 
from  thence  by  railroad  to  Camp  Chase,  Ohio,  where 
I  suffered  many  great  privations  until  several 
months  after  the  war  closed.  There  were  twelve 
ministers  confined  in  Camp  Chase,  and  we  held  in- 
teresting services  every  Sunday.  I  prayed  for  the 
prisoners   and  preached    to    them,   but    my    heart 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SUFFERER.  29 

yearned  for  my  home  and  for  proper  authority  to 
declare  God's  Word.  I  came  from  prison  to  my 
mother's  home  at  length,  sick  and  penniless,  and 
found  myself  in  the  midst  of  a  face  to  face,  hand  to 
hand,  inch  by  inch,  conflict  with  unfortunate  cir- 
cumstances, and  I  wa?  not  allowed  to  choose  my 
foes,  my  battle-fields,  my  ammunition  or  my  gener- 
als. It  was  very  plain  that  if  I  entered  the  ministry 
I  must  fight  and  my  battles  could  not  be  conducted 
on  any  prearranged  plan.  My  conflicts  had  to  be 
single  handed  skirmishes  with  "  ugly  guerrillas " 
that  came  down  upon  me  in  the  "  shape  and  guise  " 
of  poverty  and  need  on  all  sides,  and  a  few  personal 
enemies  resembling  hooded  snakes  in  canebrakes. 
In  all  difficulties,  trials,  needs,  and  in  the  presence 
of  a  few  envious  enemies,  things  that  seemed  to  in- 
dicate the  impossibility  of  my  entrance  into  the 
ministry,  I  found  comfort  in  praying  and  in  reading 
this  passage  of  Scripture  :  "  And  I  will  make  thee 
unto  this  people  a  fenced  and  brazen  wall ;  and 
they  shall  fight  against  thee,  but  they  shall  not  pre- 
vail against  thee,  for  I  am  with  thee  to  save  thee, 
and  to  deliver  thee,  saith  the  Lord."  Reading  this 
assurance  and  believing  that  whether  poor  or  rich, 
distinguished  or  obscure,  whether  in  the  city  or 
lonely  spreading  waste,  He  who  is  rich  in  the  bril- 
liant glory  of  a  thousand  suns,  is  true  to  His  prom- 
ises and   to   His  people,  I  became  oblivious  to  ex- 


3()  THE  LIFE  OF  A  SUFFERER. 

ternal  circumstances.  I  continued  my  studies  with 
indomitable  resolution,  with  sleepless  energy,  with 
tireless  tenacity  of  purpose,  saying  to  evil  example 
around  me,  to  the  need  of  a  better  education  con- 
fronting me,  to  poverty  and  need  ever  present  with 
me,  and  to  the  sneer  of  anticipated  derision,  "  Here 
I  stand,  determined  to  preach,  I  can  do  naught  else, 
God  help  me.  Amen."  And  God,  whose  power 
made  the  lilies  bloom  and  sent  the  ravens,  as  min- 
isters of  mercy,  to  bring  his  prophet  bread — whose 
love  shall  kindle  its  brilliant  suns  when  other  lights 
have  gone  out — whose  tender  mercy  will  sing  its 
beautiful  songs  while  the  trumpet  of  the  archangel 
peals  and  the  air  is  filled  with  the  crash  of  breaking 
sepulchres,  and  the  rush  of  the  wings  of  the  rising 
dead,  heard'my  prayers  and  helped  me.  It  is  an 
historical  fact  that  prayer  walks  in  safety  down  the 
centuries  by  the  side  of  unexpected  disclosures  of 
the  world's  improvement,  and  that  its  wonderful 
power  has  been  vindicated  from  hostile  criticism  by 
the  experience  of  all  generations.  May  each  reader 
of  this  book  "  pray  much;  God  loves  a  sweet,  de- 
pendent spirit  that  owns  itself  too  weak  to  walk 
alone.  No  prayer  is  uttered  but  listening  angels 
hear  it,  sometimes  in  ways  mysterious  and  unknown. 
Their  answers  come  ;  but  surely  as  the  light  hears 
the  dawn  calling  and  dispels  the  night,  so  do  those 
blessed  messengers  on  high  hear  and  bless  us  when 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SUFFERER.  31 

The  history  of  the  prayers  of  the  past 
may  be  put  into  one  sentence  :  "  They  looked  unto 
Him.  and  were  lightened,  and  their  faces  were  not 
ashamed,"  and  as  for  the  present  I  thank  God  that 
I  can  say  "  This  poor  man  cried,  and  the  Lord  heard 
him  and  saved  him  out  of  all  his  troubles."  I 
prayed  for  sympathy  and  God  answered  me.  Revs. 
W.  Kimball  and  Simeon  Scherer  lent  me  books  and 
I  committed  to  memory  volumes  of  interesting 
works,  including  the  "  Formula  for  the  Government 
and  Discipline  of  the  Evangelical  Lutheran 
Church."  I  was  determined  to  undergo  a  creditable 
examination  when  I  applied  for  license  to  preach, 
and  I  spent  whole  nights  without  sleep  in 
reading  my  books  and  praying.  I  remembered  how 
the  prophet's  servant  climbed  the  steeps  of  Carmel 
to  look  for  the  first  signal  of  God's  mercy.  Three 
years,  and  never  a  cloud  dappled  the  burning  sky. 
Three  long  years,  and  never  a  dewdrop  had  glistened 
on  the  grass  or  kissed  the  lips  of  a  dying  flower, 
and  for  the  need  of  rain,  famine,  desolation,  and 
death  reigned  everywhere.  But  the  cloud  in  answer 
to  importunate  prayer  came  at  last.  No  larger  than 
a  man's  hand,  it  rose  from  the  sea  ;  it  spread  :  and 
as  he  saw  the  first  lightning's  flash,  and  heard  the 
first  thunder's  roll,  he  forgot  all  his  toils,  and  would 
have  climbed  the  hills,  not  seven  times,  but  seventy 
times  seven,  to  hail  that  welcome  sight.     Just  so  it 


32  THE  LIFE  OF  A  SUFFERER. 

was  with  me ;  I  considered  the  ministry  worth  pray- 
ing for,  toiling  for,  suffering  for,  and  after  years  of 
struggles  God  crowned  my  efforts  with  success. 
Revs.  W.  Kimball,  L.  C.  Groseclose,  Simeon  Scher- 
er  and  J.  Crim,  advised  me  to  apply  for  license  to 
enter  upon  the  work  of  the  ministry,  and  furnished 
me  with  letters  commending  me  to  the  favorable 
notice  of  the  officers  of  the  Evangelical  Lutheran 
Synod  of  North  Carolina. 

On  the  7th  of  December,  1865,  I  was  carefully 
examined  and  received  ad-interim  license  from  Rev. 
J.  B.  Anthony,  President  of  the  North  Carolina 
Synod.  I  hastened  from  Mt.  Pleasant,  N.  C,  where 
I  was  examined,  a  distance  of  eighteen  miles,  to  my 
home  in  Rowan  county,  where  I  told  my  mother 
the  joyful  news  that  I  held  in  my  possession  the 
longed  for  credentials  to  declare  the  Word  of  God. 
Without  delay  and  without  synodical  aid,  I  took 
charge  of  a  mission  field  consisting  of  two  churches 
in  Davie  Co.,  North  Carolina,  where  I  labored  until 
1869,  when  constant  chills  and  the  need  of  increased 
salary  compelled  me  to  resign  my  work.  I  imme- 
diately moved  to  a  healthy  section  in  Rowan  Co., 
and  commenced  preaching  twice  every  Sunday  in  a 
school  house,  where  after  much  suffering  and  hard 
labor  I  organized  a  congregation  of  forty  members, 
and  erected  a  house  of  worship,  which  we  had  good 
reasons  to  name  "  Providence."     By  taking  this  or- 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SUFFERER.  33 

ganization  into  connection  with  the  Iredell  charge  I 
managed  to  serve  it  ten  years. 

On  the  19th  of  September,  1866,  I  married  Miss 
C.  A.  Lentz,  whose  true  heart  has  never  faltered, 
and  whose  footsteps  have  never  wearied  in  the 
pathway  of  love  for  twenty  and  rive  years. 

I  was  called  to  St.  Paul's  Church  in  Iredell  Co., 
in  1869,  and  to  St.  Michael's,  in  the  same  county, 
in  1871,  and  resigned  the  entire  charge  in  1878. 
While  I  was  pastor  of  the  congregations  in  Iredell, 
I  supplied  Thyatira  and  Beth  Eden  churches  in 
Catawba  county  with  preaching.  During  a  number 
of  years  I  preached  to  six  congregations. 

These  churches,  located  in  three  counties,  made 
my  field  of  labor  a  very  trying  one  to  serve.  In 
order  to  be  faithful  in  the  discharge  of  my  duties  to 
my  family  and  to  the  Church,  I  was  frequently 
compelled  to  travel  on  the  railroad  and  on  foot  all 
hours  of  the  night,  and  this  exposure,  in  the  course 
of  time,  ruined  my  constitution.  Love  for  home 
and  family  has  been  a  ruling  power  in  my  life.  I 
often  preached  twice  on  Sunday  and  walked  twenty- 
five  miles  through  the  darkness  of  night,  reaching 
my  wife  and  children  by  daylight  next  morning. 
I  never  left  my  home  without  telling  my  wife  where 
I  could  be  found  each  night  of  my  absence,  and 
when  she  might  confidently  expect  my  return,  and 
in  all  my  ministry  she  was  never  once  disappointed 
3 


34  THE  LIFE  OF  A  SUFFERER. 

in  the  arrangements.  My  greatest  happiness  was 
always  found  in  the  society  of  my  wife  and  children. 
I  kept  a  large  blank  book  in  which  I  frequently 
wrote  letters  containing  affectionate  parental  advice 
to  each  member  of  my  family. 

"  Father,  my  wife  and  children  ! 
I  know  not  what  is  coming  on  the  earth ; 
Beneath  the  shadow  of  Thy  heavenly  wing, 
Oh,  keep  them,  keep  them,  Thou  who  gavest  them  birth  ; 
Oh,  keep  them  undefiled  ! 
Unspotted  from  a  tempting  world  of  sin ; 
That,  clothed  in  white,  through  the  bright  city  gates 
They  may  with  me  in  triumph  enter  in." 

The  minutes  of  the  Ministerium  of  the  North 
Carolina  Synod  show  that  a  favorable  vote  for  my 
ordination  was  cast  at  Pilgrim  Church,  Davidson 
Co.,  North  Carolina,  August  the  26th,  1871,  but  the 
vow  was  not  assumed,  or  the  laying  on  of  hands,  or 
prayer  given,  until  in  October  of  the  same  year. 


CHAPTER  III. 

I  suffered  many  years  with  disease  of  the  lungs 
and  heart  before  I  resigned  my  pastoral  work  in 
Iredell  and  Catawba  counties. 

I  frequently  preached  with  large  blister  plasters 
over  the  region  of  both  lungs,  and  my  whole  chest 
was  completely  scarred  by  the  constant  use  of  blis- 
tering ointment,  Croton  oil  and  other  irritants.  I 
labored  in  the  pulpit  more  than  one  hundred  and 
sixty  times  with  sores  produced  by  blisters  larger 
than  silver  dollars,  on  each  breast.  I  often  went 
into  God's  altar  suffering, with  a  psalm  in  my  mouth, 
and  thus  glorified  my  precious  Saviour  in  the  midst 
of  the  fires  of  affliction.  Eternity  alone  can  reveal 
how  much  I  endured  for  Christ's  sake  before  I  re- 
linquished the  active  work  of  the  ministry.  The 
Scriptures  assure  me  that  every  minister  of  Jesus 
Christ  is  a  watchman  on  Zion,  and  the  poet  paints 
his  relations  well,  and  pencils  his  duty  and  danger 
with  the  hand  of  a  master,  when,  with  the  watch- 
man in  his  eye,  and  on  the  eve  of  a  conflict  with  the 
powers  of   darkness,  he   exclaims: 


36  THE  LIFE  OF  A  SUFFERER. 

"  in  heaven's  high  arch  above  his   head,  a  glorious  form   ap- 
peared, 
Whose  left  hand  bore  a  flambeau  light,  his  right  a   scepter 

reared ; 
A  diadem  of  purest  gold  his  brow  imperial  crowned, 
And  from  his  throne  he  thus  addressed  the  watchman   on  his 

round  : 
What  of  the  night,  what  of  the  night  ?    Watchman  ;    What  of 

the  night  ? 
The  myriad  foe,  in  close  array,  come  on  to  try  their  might — 
A  night  assault — and  if  thy  trump  mistake  a  single  sound, 
I'll  hang  upon  these  battlements,  the  watchman  on  his  round." 

Even  the  most  faithful  watchmen,  those  of  rarest 
worth,  may  fall  in  the  conflict,  but,  it  will  be  from 
the  walls  of  Zion,  or  upon  the  hill  of  God,  and  they 
sink  in  death,  with  the  world  for  their  shrine  and 
mankind  their  mourners.  A  minister  of  Jesus  Christ 
is  God's  mouth-piece  to  man.  He  is  to  guard  and 
dispense,  with  the  most  sacred  and  uncompromising 
jealousy,  the  heavenly  treasures  of  wisdom  and 
knowledge,  committed  to  him  in  trust  for  the  refor- 
mation of  his  kind.  Amid  all  the  pleasures  of 
my  life  there  is  one  that  is  finer  than  all,  and  amid 
all  the  joys  that  bloomed  in  the  landscape  of  mj^ 
days,  there  is  one  whose  flower  stands  preeminent, 
whose  beauty  is  enjoyed  to-day,  and  whose  fra- 
grance fills  the  atmosphere  of  my  suffering  life  with 
delight.  It  is  the  pleasure  and  joy  of  knowing  I 
have  led  sinners  to  repentance.  I  knew  and  felt  the 
responsibility   of   being  a  mouth-piece  for   God,  a 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SUFFERER.  37 

minister  for  Jesus  Christ,  and  labored  for  the  Saviour 
as  long  as  my  poor  suffering  body  would  allow  me. 
When  I  could  no  longer  stand  as  a  watching  sen- 
tinel upon  the  walls  of  the  Church,  I  cast  my  burden 
upon  my  precious  Saviour,  saying :  "  Dear  Lord 
Jesus,  I  am  too  feeble  to  watch  longer,  but  the  seed 
is  sown,  the  bread  is  cast  upon  the  waters,  and  if  I 
have  improved  a  single  soul,  given  birth  to  any 
pious  purposes,  dried  up  any  tears,  checked  any 
sighs,  bound  up  any  broken  hearts,  or  poured  the 
balsam  of  hope  and  the  balm  of  life  into  any 
wounded  spirits,  then  I  have  not  watched  and 
prayed,  and  lived  and  labored  in  vain. 

Though  sickness  now  holds  me  in  a  chain, 

No  will  can  break  or  bend  to  earthly  use, 
I  can  still  pray  and  truthfully  exclaim  : 

"  In  the  cross  of  Christ  I  glory, 
Towering  over  the  wreck  of  time  ; 

All  the  light  of  sacred  story 
Gathers  round  its  head  sublime. 

"  When  the  woes  of  life  overtake  me, 

Hope  deceives  and  pains  annoy, 
Never  shall  the  cross  forsake  me  ; 

Lo  !  it  glows  with  peace  and  joy, 

Bane  and  blessing,  pain  and  pleasure, 

By  the  cross  are  sanctified  ; 
Peace  is  there  that  knows  no  measure, 

Joys  that  through  all  time  abide." 

"  In  the  cross  of  Christ  I  glory." 


38  THE  LIFE  OF  A  SUFFERER. 

In  the  year  1879  the  condition  of  my  health  ren- 
dered it  absolutely  necessary  for  me  to  retire  from 
the  active  work  of  the  ministry.  Trusting  that  I 
might  recuperate,  I  rested  a  short  time,  but  my  ex- 
pectations were  disappointed.  I  gradually  grew 
weaker  and  worse.  Having  a  wife  and  seven  chil- 
dren to  support,  I  was  in  an  unenviable  condition, 
but  I  had  already  experienced  the  mercy  and  faith- 
fulness of  God  in  too  many  severe  trials  ever  to 
waver  in  my  trust  and  confidence  in  Him  whose 
hand  is  not  shortened  that  it  can  not  save,  and 
whose  grace  is  not  limited.  I  remembered  these 
touching  and  assuring  words,  which  are  sufficient  to 
make  weak  faith  ashamed  : 
"  Commit  thou  all  thy  griefs, 
And  ways  into  His  hands, 
To  His  sure  truth  and  tender  care, 

Who  earth  and  heaven  commands ; 
Who  points  the  clouds  their  course, 

Whom  winds  and  seas  obey, 
He  shall  direct  thy  wandering  feet, 

He  shall  prepense  thy  way. 
God  can  this  hour  with  every  dainty 

The  poor  man's  table  amply  spread, 
And  strip  the  rich  of  all  his  plenty, 

And  send  him  forth  to  beg  his  bread. 
Sing,  pray  and  in  God's  ways  walk  ever, 

And  all  your  duties  well  perform  ; 
Distrust  Him  for  His  blessing  never, 

And  he  will  shie'd  you  from  all  harm, 
For  he  who  in  the  Lord  confides, 
Upon  a  solid  rock  abides." 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SUFFERER.  39 

I  was  not  able  to  preach  and  had  no  way  to  pro- 
vide for  my  family,  but  "just  before  stern  want 
would  have  approached  our  door,  Eugene  B.  Drake, 
editor  of  the  Statesville  American,  an  aged  and  re- 
spected member  of  the  Episcopal  church,  and  one 
of  the  purest  hearted  men  I  ever  knew,  employed 
me  to  keep  the  books  and  to  manage  the  affairs  of  a 
commercial  establishment,  which,  on  account  of  the 
death  of  a  partner,  was  then  going  out  of  business 
My  connection  with  Father  Drake  was  exceedingly 
pleasant.  Nothing  could  exceed  his  kindness  to- 
ward me  while  I  was  in  his  employment,  and  there 
was  that  in  him  that  made  an  impression  upon  my 
memory  that  promises  to  stand  well  the  test  of  time. 
In  all  my  association  with  Mr.  Drake  we  did  not 
have  a  single  difference,  and  he  tried  to  make  my 
life  pleasant.  In  September,  1879,  I  was  invited  by 
the  Council  of  Bethel  Church,  Stanly  county,  to 
hold  a  communion  service  for  their  congregation. 
Sick  and  weak  as  I  was,  I  accepted  the  invitation, 
taking  my  family  to  Salisbury,  where  some  of  the 
Council  met  us  with  vehicles  and  conveyed  us  to 
their  hospitable  homes  in  the  neighborhood  of  the 
house  of  God.  We  remained  with  the  people  two 
weeks.  I  preached  five  times,  administered  the 
commu/ion,  baptized  several  children  and  confirmed 
several  persons.  The  last  day  of  my  services  at 
Bethel,  the  Council  of  the   church  proposed  to  give 


40  THE  LIFE  OF  A  SUFFERER. 

me   a  call  and  requested    me  to  consent  to  become 
their  pastor,  but  knowing  that  my    extreme  feeble- 
ness precluded  hope  of  ability   to  serve  them,  I   re- 
fused to  allow  ray  name  to  be  proposed  in  a  congre- 
gational meeting.     A  few  weeks  after  my  return   to 
Statesville  I   received  several  kind  and  interesting 
letters  again  asking  me  to  give    my  consent    to  be- 
come the  pastor  of  Bethel   congregation,  to  which  I 
replied  that  it  would  be  imprudent  for  me   to   allow 
myself    to  be  called  to   serve  a  people  when  I  was 
conscious  of  the  fact  that  I   would  fall  and  die  in 
their    midst.     They  immediately  wrote  that  if  I  fell 
while  on  duty  and  died  in   their  midst  I  would  cer- 
tainly do  so  among   my  sincere   friends.     Having 
seven  small  children  to  provide  for,  no    money  and 
no  way  to  support  my  family,  and  being  satisfied 
that  the  people  in  Stanly  were  warm-hearted  friends, 
I  answered,  saying,  that  they  might  arrange  for  me 
a  temporary    parsonage   at  Misenheimer's  Sulphur 
Springs,  bring  wagons,  meet  me  in  Salisbury,    and 
convey  me  to  their  community.     Their   response  to 
this  proposal  was  hearty  and  prompt,  and  in  Novem- 
ber, 1S79,  we  moved  to  Stanly  county,  where  I  was 
destined   to  become    thoroughly   disabled.      Soon 
after  my  arrival  in  Stanly,  I  held  a  series  of   meet- 
ings in  Bethel  Church,  in  which  I  was  assisted  by 
the  members,  many  of  whom  were  earnest,  praying 
men.     I    could   ask  almost   any    member   of    this 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SUFFERER.  41 

church  to  pray  in  public,  knowing  that  he  would 
respond.  I  preached  to  St.  Stephen's  Church  several 
times,  and  once  to  a  struggling  congregation  in  Gold 
Hill,  but  was  too  feeble  to  take  charge  of  these 
churches.  I  desire  to  leave  on  record  that  Dr. 
Shimpoch,  a  successful  physician,  and  zealous  mem- 
ber of  the  congregation  in  Gold  Hill,  did  much  to 
cheer  and  assist  me  in  the  work  I  had  attempted  to 
do  in  his  church.  This  faithful  physician  and  his 
Christian  wife,  deserve  and  have  my  grateful  remem- 
brance. Dr.  Shimpoch  knew  my  physical  condition, 
but  he  did  all  he  could  to  inspire  me  with  hope.  I 
continued  to  preach  at  Bethel  Church  until  I  could 
scarcely  read  a  verse  in  the  Bible  or  hymn  book 
without  making  repeated  efforts  to  get  a  full  inspira- 
tion of  breath,  and  even  until  I  no  longer  had  the 
strength  necessary  to  stand  in  the  pulpit.  When 
I  sat  down,  it  took  much  effort  to  rise  without  assist- 
ance, and  in  this  wretched  condition  I  leaned  on 
the  "book  board"  and  addressed  my  hearers.  At  last 
extreme  debility,  accompanied  by  chilly  sensations 
and  hectic  fevers,  contined  me  to  bed,  where  I  had 
exhausting  night  sweats,  coughed  incessantly,  and 
frequently  when  I  expanded  my  chest  the  pus  from 
my  diseased  lung  gushed  from  my  mouth.  Exces- 
sive coughing  and  great  difficulty  in  breathing  made 
it  necessary  for  me  to  occupy  a  sitting  posture  in 
bed, 


42  THE  LIFE  OF  A  SUFFERER. 

'•Where  I  had  such  long  weakness 

And  such  wearing  pain, 
As  had  no  end  in  view,  that  made  my  life 

One  weary  avenue  of  darkened  days, 
The  bitter  darkness  growing  darker  still, 

Which  none  could  share  or  soothe,  which  sundered  me 
From  all  desire,  or  hope,  or  strife  of  change, 

Or  service  of  my  Master  in  the  world, 
Or  fellowship  with  all  the  faces  round 

Of  passing  pains  and  pleasures, — while  my  pain 
Passed  not, — and  only  this 

Remained  for  me  to  look  for, — more  pain, 
And  doubt  if  1  could  bear  it  to  the  end." 

My  wife  and  friends  watched  by  my  bed  day  and 
night,  only  to  see  me  sink  lower  and  lower,  until 
my  feet  touched  the  earth  at  the  very  brink  of  the 
grave,  but  at  that  point  the  Almighty  power  of  God 
.was  waiting  to  arrest  my  descent  into  the  dark 
chambers  of  the  dead.  As  in  all  cases  of  lung  dis- 
ease, my  understanding  was  unimpaired — my  mind 
was  perfectly  bright,  and  I  was  permitted  to 
bear  testimony  before  my  surrounding  friends  to  the 
unspeakable  consolations  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  to  the 
unfailing  faithfulness  of  God,  and  to  the  abundant 
love  of  the  Redeemer.  Practicing  physicians  from 
different  sections  visited  me  professionally  and  pro- 
nounced my  condition  beyond  the  reach  of  medical 
skill.  One  of  the  medical  men  examined  me  and 
then  pronounced  his  opinion  thus  :  "  Mr.  Fesper- 
man,  your  left  lung  is  about  gone   and   your  right 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SUFFERER.  43 

lung  is  seriously  involved,  and  you  cannot  hope  to 
get  well."  My  answer  to  this  candid  physician  was 
this,  "  I  am  not  afraid  to  die,  for  death  himself 
shall  some  day  expire  and  the  giant  corpse  of  time 
lie  buried  in  the  grave  of  years,  when  I  have  just 
commenced  to  sing  the  beautiful  songs  of  my 
precious  Saviour;  but  I  have  a  wife  and  seven  help- 
less children,  and  for  their  sake  I  shall  try  to  live, 
greeting  life  as  God  may  give  it  and  yet  awaiting 
death  when  He  shall  send  it."  The  doctor  smiled 
and  remarked,  "  Your  resolution  is  a  strong  and 
good  one,  but  your  case  is  just  as  I  have  informed 
you."  Every  hope  of  my  recovery  seemed  to  vanish 
from  the  minds  of  my  family  and  friends ;  for  all 
the  physicians,  some  of  whom  were  skilled  in  their 
profession,  had  said  that  my  death  was  not  in  the 
distant  future.  There  is  no  death  to  those  who 
know  of  life.  No  time  to  those  who  see  eternity. 
I  looked  at  my  dependent  wife  and  children  and 
felt  that  I  was  encompassed  with  grief  on  every 
side,  but  still  the  flower  of  love  and.  trust  bloomed 
on,  enabling  me  to  exclaim,  "0  Lord,  my  strength, 
and  fortress,  and  refuge,  in  this  day  of  affliction  and 
trouble/'  while  the  waves  of  sorrow  threaten 

"  Me  and  mine  to  swallow  up, 

Troubles  fall  and  trials  thicken, 
Cry  I,  while  I  drain  the  cup, 

Thou  Lord  art  my  hiding  place. 
In  the  secret  of  His  presence 

The  Lord  keeps  I  know  not  how ; 
In  the  shadow  of  the  Highest 

I  am  resting,  hiding,  now.,} 


44  THE  LIFE  OF  A  SUFFERER. 

In  such  moments  of  sorrowful  visitation  from  the 
living  God,  we  may  show  that  fortitude  with  which 
human  nature  often  breasts  the  storms  of  calamity ; 
but  there  can  be  no  holy  submission,  no  perfect 
resignation,  no  absolute  peace,  except  to  those  to 
whom  the  voice  of  faith  can  whisper,  "  The  eternal 
God  is  thy  refuge,  and  underneath  are  the  everlast- 
ing arms." 

One  beautiful  Sunday  morning  Mrs.  Julia  Misen- 
heimer,  who  visited  me  several  times  every  day, 
came  to  my  bedside  and  endeavored  'to  encourage 
me.  After  conversing  with  me  a  short  time  she 
walked  to  the  door,  turned,  and  looking  at  me  re- 
marked, "  Brother  Fesperman,  if  you  die  you  will 
have  to  expire  under  the  tears  and  earnest  prayers 
of  your  people,  for  we  all  meet  in  the  church  this 
morning  to  pray  for  your  life — to  ask  the  Lord  to 
spare  you  to  your  family  and  to  the  Church.''  The 
house  of  God  that  day  became  the  scene  of  solemn, 
tearful  wrestlings  with  the  Angel  of  the  Covenant, 
that  yet  a  little  while  I  might  be  spared.  Faith, 
hope, — pleading  faith,  humble  hope, — were  there  in 
Bethel  Church ;  and  almost  awed  to  silence,  but 
laboring  all  the  more  intensely,  from  the  very  pres- 
sure under  which  they  bent,  and  seeming  to  say, 
"Lord,  we  cannot  give  this  sick  pastor  up.  Oh! 
let  this  husband,  father  and  minister  of  Thy  Word 
live." 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SUFFERER.  45_ 

May  God  bless  the  members  of  Bethel  Church  ; 
they  were  true  to  me  and  true  to  my  wife  and  chil- 
dren. They  abundantly  provided  the  comforts  of 
life  for  my  family  while  I  lay  sick  in  their  midst. 
Bro.  Claiborn  Misenheimer,  who  owned  a  mill  near 
by,  came  every  day  to  inquire  concerning  my  wel- 
fare. One  morning  as  he  stood  at  the  foot  of  my 
bed,  I  noticed  him  shedding  tearc?.  He  said : 
"  Brother  Fesperman,  if  I  can  do  anything  in  the 
world  for  you — if  you  desire  anything,  tell  me  what 
it  is,  and  if  money  can  secure  it,  you  shall  have 
it."  I  answered  that  I  wished  to  use  a  certain  rem- 
edy that  I  had  read  about  in  the  Lutheran  Observer, 
but  that  the  price  of  it  was  exceedingly  high.  He 
inquired  what  it  cost,  and  in  half  an  hour  Mrs.  Mary 
Misenheimer  stood  by  my  bed  with  the  money  in 
her  hand.  A  letter  was  quickly  written,  and  in  one 
week  the  medicine  reached  me,  and,  as  I  believe,  in 
answer  to  my  prayer  proved  beneficial.  Infidelity 
may  smile  at  this  assertion,  but  it  is  certainly  evi- 
dent that  the  efficacy  of  prayer  was  plainly  mani- 
fested when  my  case  was  given  up  as  hopeless  by 
the  ablest  physicians — when  all  who  knew  my  con- 
dition thought  it  not  possible  for  me  to  survive  a 
week  longer.  The  united  prayers  not  only  of  my 
own  church, but  of  Christians  of  other  denominations, 
went  up  to  the  mercy-seat  in  my  behalf,  and  the 
hand  of  the  destroyer  was  stayed.     The  Lord's  peo- 


46  THE  LIFE  0F  A  SUFFERER. 

pie  unitedly  prayed  for  my  life,  and  although  I  was 
not  healed,  the  progress  of  my  disease  was  arrested 
in  its  rapid,  destructive  course,  and  my  days  were 
mercifully  prolonged. 

"  God's  eye  is  fixed  on  seraph  throngs ; 

His  arm  upholds  the  sky ; 
His  ear  is  filled  with  angel  songs, 

His  love  is  throned  on  high. 
The  sun  and  moon  and  twinkling  stars, 

And  lightniDg  chariots  swift  that  fly, 
And  all  the  flowers  that  bloom  on  earth 

Would  fade  without  the  love  of  that  all-shining  Eye. 
Each  tiny  thing  within,  without, 

Beneath  our  feet,  or  in  the  sky, 
Or  mighty  men  who  rule  the  land, 

Live  in  the  love  and  light  of  that  great  Eye. 
The  vapors  from  the  boundless  sea, 

The  mists  that  on  the  mountains  lie, 
And  clouds  that  veil  the  starry  sky, 

All  float  in  that  all-seeing  Eye. 
No  warbled  note,  nor  placid  smile, 

No  joyous  shout,  nor  parting  sigh 
But  wends  its  way  from  things  that  die, 

To  live  in  that  all-loving  Eye. 
There  is  a  power  which  helpless  man  can  wield, 

When  mortal  aid  is  vain, 
That  eye,  that  arm,  that  love  to  reach, 

That  listening  ear  to  gain. 
That  power  is  prayer,  which  soars  on  high, 

Through  Jesus,  to  the  throne ; 
And  moves  the  hand  which  moves  the  world 

To  bring  our  blessings  down." 


THE   LIFE   OF   A   SUFFERER  47 

In  the  month  of  April,  1880,  my  wife,  and  sister 
Misenheimer,  holding  me  by  the  arms,  led  me  out 
of  the  house  into  the  beautiful  sunshine  that  I  might 
enjoy  a  sun-bath.  My  people  told  the  doctors  that 
if  there  was  any  hope  of  my  ever  being  able  to 
preach  for  them  again,  they  would  not  call  a  pastor 
but  wait  a  year  or  more,  and  in  the  intervening  time 
provide  the  comforts  of  life  for  my  family.  The 
medical  gentlemen  promptly  and  candidly  informed 
my  generous  friends  and  beloved  parishioners  that 
I  was  afflicted  with  consumption  in  an  advanced 
stage,  associated  with  heart  disease;  that  it  was  pos- 
sible for  me  to  live  a  while,  but  that  I  would  never 
get  well.  The  kind  proposal  of  my  friends  at  Bethel 
to  provide  for  my  family  and  wait  for  preaching 
until  I  recovered,  brought  to  my  mind  this  kind  of 
verse : 

"  The  world  is  full  of  good  advice, 

Of  prayers  and  praise  and  preaching  nice  ; 

But  generous  souls  resembling  these  who  aid  mankind 

Are  like  to  diamonds — hard  to  find. 

Give  like  a  Christian — speak  in  deeds; 

A  noble  life's  the  best  of  creeds, 

And  he  shall  wear  a  royal  crown 

Who  gives  a  lift  when  men  are  down." 

In  May,  1880,  the  North  Carolina  Synod  held  its 
annual  meeting  in  Mt.  Pleasant,  not  far  from  me. 
Anxious  to  see  my  brethren,  I  had  myself  con- 
veyed    to     the    synod,    but     was     too     weak    to 


48  THE  LIFE  OF  A  SUFFERER. 

attend  its  sessions.  I  was  obliged  to  retire  to 
&  private  house,  where  I  remained  during  the 
day,  and  then  returned  home  completely  ex- 
hausted. My  ministerial  brethren  sent  me  a  dona- 
tion by  the  hands  of  Marvel  Ritchie,  who  was  the 
delegate  from  Bethel  congregation  Shortly  after 
the  meeting  of  synod,  I  concluded  to  return  to 
Iredell  county,  a  higher  and  healthier  locality. 
Bethel  Church  being  close  to  my  residence,  I  caused 
an  announcement  to  be  made  that  I  would  hold  a 
Silent  Communion  there,  and  bid  adieu  to  my  con- 
gregation. At  the  the  appointed  time  we  assembled 
in  the  church  and  the  congregation  sang  these 
words  : 

"  Our  souls  by  love  together  knit, 
Cemented,  mixed  in  one, 
One  hope,  one  heart,  one  mind,  one  voice, 
"lis  heaven  on  earth  begun." 

One  of  the  Council  prayed.  I  then  consecrated 
the  bread  and  wine,  and  silently  administered  to  the 
communicants.  This  was  indeed  a  solemn  scene, 
and  many  tears  were  shed  during  the  services. 
One  aged  lady,  now  in  heaven,  where  robes,  and 
palms,  and  crowns,  and  harpings  feebly  denote 
celestial  triumphs,  stood  at  the  communion  table, 
and  as  I  approched  her  with  the  elements  of  the 
Lord's  Supper  in  my  hand,  gave  expression  to  her 
feelings  by  glorifying  and  praising  God. 


THE   LIFE   OF   A    SUFFERER.  49 

The  day  arrived  for   my  departure  from    Stanly 


coir 


nty.  The  people  gave  me  forty  dollars  and  two 
sacks  of  flour  to  take  with  me  to  my  home  in  States- 
ville,  K  C. 

The  wagons  were  loaded  ready  to  move,   and   the 
members  came  to  say   good -by,    when    one   of    the 
officers  of  the  church,  whose  body  now  slumbers  in 
the  repose  of  death  and  whose  spirit  doubtless  lives 
in  the  glory  of  his  Father's  house,  took  me  by  the 
hand,  saying,   "Bro.  Fesperman,  what  is  your   part- 
ing advice  to  us  ?"     1  replied,  "Love  and  trust  your 
Saviour.     Look  to  Him  by  repentance,  by  faith  and 
in  the  faithful  performance  of  every  Christian  duty. 
Read  your  Bible.     Learn  here  the  science  of  salva- 
tion, unfolded  in   lines    of  light.     This  will    point 
your  spirits  to  the  only  healing  Hand  that  pours  the 
balm  of  eternal   life  into  the  souls  of  men,  and  will 
turn  your  sight  undaunted  on  the  tomb.     Forget 
not  that  prayer  is  man  in   humble,  earnest  negotia- 
tion with  his  God ;  that  it  is  the  moral  nerve  quick- 
ening the  muscles  of  the  soul  to  approach   the  Al- 
mighty, and  that  if  your  prayers  go  to  heaven,  laden 
with  sighs  and  stained  with  tears,  they  shall   return 
accompanied  by  angels  and  freighted  with  blessings. 
— Farewell." 

As  the  wagons  conveyed  me  away  from  the  scene 
of  my  sufferings,  and  from  the  hearts  of  my  faithful 
Christian  friends,  I  could  truly  appreciate  these  lines: 
4 


50  THE    LIFE   OF   A   SUFFERER. 

"  Blest  be  the  tie  that  binds 

Our  hearts  in  Christian  love  ! 
The  fellowship  of  kindred  minds 

Is  like  to  that  above. 
We  share  our  mutual  woes, 

Our  mutual  burdens  bear : 
And  often  for  each  other  flows 

The  sympathizing  tear. 
When  we  asunder  part, 

It  gives  us  inward  pain  ; 
But  we  shall  still  be  joined  in  heart 

And  hope  to  meet  again.'' 

This  last  verse  expresses  the  feelings  that  accom- 
panied me  when  I  left  my  friends  and  parishioners 
in  Stanly  county.  When  we  reached  our  former 
home  in  Iredell  county,  I  was  so  feeble  that  I  could 
scarcely  walk  one  hundred  yard?.  It  was  evident 
that  the  great  sea  of  disease  was  gradually  eating 
away  the  bank  and  shoal  of  time  upon  which  I 
existed.  Here  I  learned  by  sore  affliction  that  it 
was  a  loving  Providence  that  made  man's  earthly 
home  so  little  fit  for  him,  that  he  might  seek  the 
city  which  ha^ foundations  —the  beautiful  city  with 
its  God-built  stories — its  rainbow  coverings  and  sun- 
like splendors — crowded  with  the  redeemed,  arid  the 
Lord  in  the  midst  to  chase  the  winter  of  affliction 
away. 

We  had  seven  children,  all  of  whom  were  too  small 
to  do  anything  by  which  to  feed  and  clothe  them- 
selves, and   having  spent  all   except  fifty  cents  of 


THE   LIFE   OF   A   SUFFERER.  51 

the  money  given  to  us  by  former  parishioners,  we 
knew  that  some  prompt  action  was  necessary  to  keep 
want  from  coming  to  our  door.  To  trust  God  when 
our  houses  and  bags  are  lull,  and  our  tables  are 
spread,  is  no  hard  thing;  but  to  trust  Him  when 
our  purses  are  empty,  but  a  handful  of  meal  and  a 
cruse  of  oil  left,  and  all  the  ways  of  relief  stopped — 
herein  lies  the  measure  of  a  Christian's  grace. 
Nearly  all  our  money  was  spent  and  we  had  no 
prospect  of  any  relief.  In  this  extremity  we  com- 
mitted our  cause  to  God  in  earnest  prayer,  truly  be- 
lieving that  anything  would  be  possible  rather  than 
that  the  most  tremulous  trust  in  the  Lord  Jesus 
Christ  should  go  unblest  and  unanswered.  We 
trusted  in  the  Lord  and  encouraged  our  hearts  to 
hope  in  His  mercy  and  faithfulness.  Our  afflictions 
were  many  and  sore,  and  our  present  circumstances 
embarrassing,  and  our  prospects  for  the  future  ex- 
ceedingly gloomy.  Providence  seemed  to  have  set 
us  up  as  a  mark  for  the  arrows  of  adversity.  Stroke 
upon  stroke  had  been  experienced.  Billow  after 
billow  bad  gone  over  us,  but  we  did  not  give  way 
to  despondency  and  unprofitable  repining  at  the 
course  of  events.  Considering  ourselves  under  the 
safe  conduct  of  Almighty  God,  and  knowing  that 
He  who  is  the  Lord  of  time  will  ever  save  at  the 
best  possible  moments,  our  faith  enabled  us  to  sing 
these  beautiful,  heart  cheering  verses  : 


52  THE   LIFE   OF   A   SUFFERER. 

"  It  may  not  be  my  way, 
it  may  not  be  thy  way, 
And  yet  in  His  own  way 
The  Lord  will  provide. 
It  may  not  be  my  time, 
It  may  not  be  thy  time, 
And  yet  in  His  own  time 
The  Lord  will  provide." 

He  did  not  provide  so  quickly  as  to  prevent  us 
from  feeling  our  need,  neither  did  He  tarry  so  long 
as  to  make  us  sick  with  hope  deferred,  or  so  long  as 
to  permit  unfortunate  circumstances  to  bring  us  to 
absolute  want.  The  next  day,  He  rebuked  our  fear 
and  rewarded  our  faith.  For  while  we  were  con- 
jecturing where  the  needed  aid  was  to  come  from,  a 
team,  attached  to  a  wagon,  halted  at  our  gate,  and  a 
small  lad  got  out  of  the  vehicle,  entered  the  yard, 
advanced  to  the  door,  and  said,  u  I  am  from  Catawba 
county  ;  my  name  is  Robert  Yount;  you  baptized  my 
sisters."  I  immediately  recognized  him  to  be  the 
son  of  the  talented  physician,  Dr.  McD.  Yount, 
whom  I  considered  the  most  liberal  man  I  had  ever 
met,  under  whom  I  had  read  medicine,  whose  child- 
ren I  had  baptized,  and  with  whom  I  had  spent 
some  of  the  happiest  social  hours  of  my  life.  Little 
Robert  remarked,  "  Father  heard  that  you  were  sick 
and  he  has  sent  you  some  flour,  potatoes,  and  other 
things.  He  then  handed  me  a  match  box,  and  when 
1  entered  the  house  and  opened  it,  I  found  seventy 


THE    LIFE   OF    A   SUFFERER.  53 

five  cents  and  these  words  written  on  a  scrap  of 
paper.  "  Please  accept  this  gift  from  three  little 
children  whom  you  baptized." 

I  then  thanked  God  and  in  gratitude  exclaimed  : 
"  Though  waves  and  storms  go  o'er  my  head, 

Though  health  and  strength  be  gone, 

Though  joys  be  withered  all  and  dead  : 

Though  every  comfort  be  withdrawn. 

On  this  my  steadfast  soul  relies, 

The  dear  Lord  Jesus  never  dies." 

When  the  donation  from  Dr.  Yount  was  almost 
expended,  a  colored  man,  who  then  waited  on  Mrs. 
Vernem,  an  aged  Christian  lady  from  New  York, 
but  who  is  now  the  pastor  of  a  large  and  wealthy 
congregation  of  colored  people  in  New  Jersey,  came 
to  my  door,  handed  me  a  letter  and  immediately  re* 
tired.  I  opened  the  envelope  and  found  five  dollars, 
and  these  encouraging  words  :  "  My  dear  Christian 
friends,  please  accept  this  small  token  of  my  love 
and  esteem,  accompanied  by  my  sincere  prayers  to 
God  in  your  behalf."  This  God-sent  gift  came  just 
in  time  to  relieve  great  mental  solicitude. 

Soon  after  this,  Dr.  C.  A.  Stork-,  a  lovable  Lutheran 
pastor  in  Baltimore,  Md.,  who  since  then  has  cast 
his  throbbing  dust  aside,  to  put  his  diadem  of  death- 
less glory  on,  sent  me  five  dollars,  accompanied  by 
his  prayers  and  sincere  sympathy.  The  tender 
spirit  manifested  in  his  letter  made  me  feel  that  he 
was  indeed  a  true  brother,  worthy  of  contact  with 


54  THE   LIFE   OF   A    SUFFERER. 

the  throne  and  palace  of  God,  the  river  and  tree  of 
life,  the  family  and  pavilion,  the  splendor  and  equi- 
page of  heaven,  in  full  and  satisfying  fruition.  I 
have  lived  and  struggled  with  sufferings,  but  Dr. 
Stork  was  taken  in  the  prime  of  full  manhood  to 
dwell  where 

"  No  blasted  flower, 
Or  withered  bud  celestial  gardens  know  : 
Xo  scorching  blast  or  fierce,  descending  shower 
Scatters  destruction  like  a  ruthless  foe." 

When  I  was  in  the  greatest  need  of  pecuniary 
assistance,  Thomas  A.  Scott,  who  was  Secretary  of 
War  during  the  administration  of  President  Lincoln, 
and  afterward  president  of  the  Pennsylvania  rail- 
road, wrote  me  a  touching  letter  and  transmitted  to 
me  his  check  for  one  hundred  dollars.  This  gener- 
ous donor  was  then  at  White  Sulphur  Springs, 
Va.,  sick  with  Bright's  disease,  and  he  died  the 
year  following  and  doubtless  is  now  where 

"  No  battle  word 
Startles  the  sacred  host  with  fear  and  dread, 
The  song  of  peace  creation's  morning  heard, 
Is  sung  wherever  angels  tread." 

I  was  confined  to  my  bed  almost  the  whole  of  my 
time  by  weakness  and  pain,  but  believing  that  the 
soul  which  cries  aloud  to  God,  the  God  and  Father 
of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  though  it  have  no  language 
but  a  cry,  would  never  call  in    vain,  I  prayed   very 


THE   LIFE   OF    A    SUFFERER.  55 

sincerely  that  Almighty  God  would  open  the  way 
for  me  to  secure  a  farm  for  a  permanent  home  for 
my  wife  and  children.  With  a  burdened  mind  con- 
scious of  its  great  need  of  heavenly  support  I  rolled 
my  burden  of  cares  and  needs  upon  the  arm  of  Je- 
hovah. "  I  sought  the  Lord  and  He  heard  me,  and 
delivered  me  from  all  my  fears."  In  the  latter  part 
of  November,  1880,  I  received  a  letter  from  Mrs.  M. 
D.  Harter,  of  Mansfield,  Ohio,  in  whicli  she  said  : 
"Enclosed  you  will  find  three  drafts,  each  of  five 
dollars,  on  New  York.  It  is  a  shame  that  any  min- 
ister in  our  church  should  be  in  need."  This  com- 
munication reached  me  late  in  the  night,  and  I  did 
not  close  my  eyes  in  sleep  until  I  had  addressed  the 
kind  donor  a  suitable  acknowledgment,  in  the  latter 
part  of  which  I  mentioned  my  anxiety  concerning 
the  future  of  my  family.  In  a  few  days  I  received 
a  letter  from  her  husband,  Mr.  M.  D.  Harter,  telling: 
me  that  he  had  read  the  acknowledgment  I  had  ad- 
dressed to  his  wife,  that  it  touched  his  heart,  that  I 
should  look  for  a  farm,  and  that  he  would  interest 
himself  in  my  behalf  and  contribute  to  secure  it  for 
my  family. 

This  was  an  answer  to  my  prayers,  but  I  was  too 
sick  to  travel  over  the  country  in  search  of  lands  for 
sale,  and  there  was  no  trustworthy,  intelligent  per- 
son in  the  community  whom  I  could  ask  to  attend 
to  my  business.     By  diligent  inquiry,  however,  we 


56  THE    LIFE   OF    A    SUFFERER. 

heard  of  a  small  farm  which  could  be  purchased  for 
six  hundred  and  fifty  dollars.  I  immediately  com- 
municated the  news  to  my  friend,  Mr.  M.  D.  Harter, 
but  before  the  money  to  paj^  for  it  reached  me  the 
proprietor  sold  it  to  another  individual,  and  we 
could  not  learn  of  a  plantation  in  Iredell  county 
with  open  land  and  buildings  on  it  that  could  be 
bought  for  less  than  fifteen  or  eighteen  hundred  dol- 
lars. At  last  we  heard  of  a  body  of  woodland  for 
sale  which  was  said  to  have  some  open  ground  but 
no  buildings  on  it.  Sick  near  unto  death  and  exceed- 
ingly anxious  to  locate  my  family,  and  being  fully 
aware  of  the  impossibility  of  doing  any  better  with 
the  amount  of  money  promised,  I  traded  for  it,  but 
was  deceived,  for  the  place  did  not  have  an  acre  of 
cleared  land  or  a  buildimr  of  any  kind  on  it.  At 
this  time  my  physicians  and  myself  believed  that  I 
could  not  survive  until  the  plantation  was  secured. 
I  wrote  this  opinion  to  Rev.  EL.  C.  Haithcox,  of 
Muncy,  Pa.,  who  was  a  faithful  brother  to  me,  and 
he  at  once  communicated  our  fears  to  my  friend  in 
Mansfield,  Ohio,  who  promptly  transmitted  to  me 
the  following  letter,  tor  which  he  shall  have  the 
gratitude  of  my  whole  heart  as  long  as  I  inhale  the 
breath  of  life. 


THE    LIFE   OF   A    SUFFERER.  57 

Rev.  J.  H.  Fesperman. 

Dear  Sir  and  Brother  : 

I  notice  in  a  postal  card  written  to  Rev.  H.  C. 
Harthcox,  that  you  are  afraid  that  your  death  may 
occur  before  the  matter  of  a  farm  may  be  arranged, 
and  now  write  to  say  that  in  case  such  a  thing 
should  occur  the  same  thing  will  be  done  for  your 
widow  as  was  proposed  for  you.  That  is  to  say, 
the  same  proposition  as  made  will  be  carried  out 
and  will  not  be  interfered  with  by  your  death.  The 
money  is  ready  any  day.      Yours  truly, 

M.  I).  Harter. 

Soon  after  this  letter  reached  me  Brother  Harter 
employed  an  attorney,  Hon.  William  Robbins,  to 
see  that  a  perfect  title  for  the  land  was  secured,  and 
then  transmitted  the  following  contributions,  viz:  M. 
D.  Harter,  Mansfield,  Ohio,  $100 ;  G.  D.  Harter, 
Canton,  Ohio,  $100;  C.  Aultman,  Canton,  Ohio, 
$100;  A.  J.  Drexel,  Philadelphia,  Pa.,  $100;  Geo. 
W.  Childs,  Philadelphia,  Pa.,  $100  ;  H.  Lloyd,  Son 
&  Co.,  Pittsburgh,  Pa.,  $100  ;  Huntington  Brown, 
Mansfield,  O.,  $10.00;  Kountze  Bros.,  New  York, 
$50.00.  The  First  English  Lutheran  church  in 
Cincinnati,  Ohio,  gave  me  seventy-five  dollars, 
St.  John's  Lutheran  church,  Charleston,  S. 
C,  contributed  seventy -five  dollars,  and  others  whose 
names  space  will  not  allow  me  to  mention  gave 
smaller  sums,  until  we  had  eight  hundred  and  fifty 
dollars,  the  amount  required   to  pay  for  the  land. 


qQ  the  life  of  a  sufferer. 

An  attorney  had  the  business  in  hand  and  the  day 
was  appointed  to  fill  out  the  deed,  but  alas  for  poor 
human  nature,  the  owner,  having  in  some  way  found 
out  that  the  money  had  been  given  to  me  by  gener- 
ous friends,  at  once  added  fifty  dollars  to  the  price 
he  first  proposed  to  take  and  sent  word  to  me  that 
when  this  was  paid  he  would  make  the  title.  Some 
one  had  offered  more  for  the  land  and  this  was  what 
made  him  act  in  bad  faith.  This  man  was  a  stranger 
to  me,  but  I  considered  him  a  fine  representative  of 
"  By-ends  .and  Money-love,"  characters  in  "Pilgrim's 
Progress,"  who  when  they  came  to  the  silver  .mines 
of  Demas,  sacrificed  their  principles  for  the  sake  of 
worldly  profit.  Some  of  my  friends  went  to  Mr.  K., 
reasoned  with  and  tried  to  persuade  him  to  let  his 
original  contract  with  me  remain  unbroken,  but 
nothing  except  the  extra  fifty  dollars  could  move 
him  to  make  and  sign  the  deed.  The  money  was 
raised,  the  title  secured,  and  then  double  trouble, 
commenced.  I  had  been  deceived  concerning  the 
cleared  land  said  to  have  been  on  the  place,  and  be- 
sides the  community  consisted  of  illiterate  and  super- 
stitious people  without  educational  advantages.  My 
children  were  all  young,  I  was  too  sick  to  remain 
out  of  bed  longer  than  a  few  hours  each  day,  the 
plantation  consisted  of  a  body  of  heavily  timbered 
woodland  and  I  had  no  money  left  to  build  with  or 
improve  it  in  any  way.     Trusting  God,  we  rented  a 


THE   LIFE   OF   A   SUFFERER.  5') 

small  house  contiguous  to  the  place,  moved  into  it, 
and  every  child  that  could  handle   an  ax  or  pick 
brush,  immediately  commenced  clearing  land.     Our 
precious  Saviour  only  knows  what  terrible  hardships 
and  -reat  trials  we  daily  endured,  but  we  knew  that 
God  reigned  and  some  pious  people  still  lived,  and 
although  hope  flickered,  it  did  not  expire.  Almighty 
God   who  watches  the  flight  of  angels  to   the   most 
distant  world  in  His  vast  dominions  and  follows  the 
true  Christian  upon  his  footstool  to  the   closet,    the 
palace   of  kings,    the  wilderness,    the   dungeon,  or 
the  scaffold,  or  to  the  cross,  raised  up  the  following 
named  churches  and  friends  to  contribute  in  our  be- 
half •  Wentworth  Street  Lutheran  Church,  Charles- 
ton, S.  C,  through  Rev.  L.  K.  Probst,   pastor,  Mrs. 
C.  Burkhalter,  Boschen  Bros., William  Dodge,  Rev 
W   H    Keller,   some  congregations    in  New    York 
city   Rev   W.  H.  Settlemyer,  R-.v.  L.  A.  Mann  and 
a  few  other  friends  and  brethren.     With  the  econo- 
mical use  of  the  donations  given   by    these  friends, 
and  through    hard   labor,   we   managed  to    erect  a 
house,  dig  a- well,  and    put   up  some  necessary  out- 
buildings.    Mv   family  continued  to   struggle    and 
toil  with  a  determination  to  open  and   improve  the 
place      Huge  trees  were  to  be  cut  down,  logs  rolled 
and  burned,  and  nobody  but  children  under  fourteen 
years  old  to  do  this  work,-all  this  made  the  accom- 
plishment of  our  design  an  overwhelming  task,  well 


60  THE    LIFE   OF   A    SUFFERER. 

calculated  to  fill  our  hands  with  daily  labor  and  our 
minds  with  deep  solicitude.  Just  as  we  began  to 
think  that  success  would  finally  crown  the  faithful 
efforts  of  our  family  to  make  a  support,  long  sick- 
ness and  death  entered  the  "  church  of  our  house- 
hold,'' took  our  firstborn  son,  sixteeu  years  old,  who 
was  our  chief  help,  and  gave  him  to  immortality — 
transferred  him  to  scenes  of  unsuffering  life  and  un- 
dying glory  at  God's  right  hand, 

Where  sighs  are  all  out  of  hearing, 

And  tears  are  all  out  of  sight, 
And  the  shadows  of  earth  are  forgotten 

In  the  heaven  of  painless  delight. 

Our  son  Bickle  was  a  child  of  unusual  promise, 
and  we  cherished  bright  hopes  of  this,  our  first  born. 
His  youth  was  all  that  life  and  piety  could  make  it. 
But  the  bud  of  promise  had  scarcely  opened  its  first 
petal,  when  the  frost  of  an  early  death  blighted  it 
forever — no,  not  forever,  for  the  flower  too  rich  fur 
earth  was  gathered  by  the  Lord  from  the  waste  of 
life  to  the  heavenly  garden.  The  breaking  of  the 
tender  stem  was,  indeed,  painful  to  his  body  and  the 
smitten  hearts  of  his  parents,  but  Jesus  and  the 
resurrection  can  heal  all  the  bruises  and  comfort  the 
sorrowing  hearts  left  behind.  Without  cessation,  he 
suffered  intense  pain  three  months  and  three  weeks, 
during  which  time  he  was  not  once  heard  to  mur- 
mur, complain,  or  wonder  why  the  Lord  thus  dread- 
fully afflicted  him. 


THE    LIFE   OF   A    SUFFERER.  gl 

Daring  his  sickness  he  prayed  many  times  that  a 
merciful  God  would  give  me  my  health 
that  I  might  again  preach  the  gospel  of  Christ. 
Knowing  that  my  heart  was  breaking  and  fearing 
that  I  might  be  overwhelmed  by  his  death,  he  called 
for  the  Bible  and  requested  me  to  sit  by  his  side 
while  he  read  the  first  chapter  in  the  book  of  Job 
With  a  feeble  voice  he  read  of  Job's  afflictions  and 
misfortunes,  and  then  looking  at  ine,  remarked : 
"  Father,  remember  that,  in  all  this  Job  sinned  not, 
neither  did  he  charge  God  foolishly,  and  that  the 
Lord  gave  him  his  children  again."  A  few  days  be- 
fore his  death  he  told  us  that  we  would  have  hard 
struggles  and  many  severe  trials  in  our  new  home, 
but  that  he  would  not  be  here  to  know  it.  He  ex- 
pected to  become  a  ministering  angel,  and  when  we 
died  he  would  meet  us  on  the  shores  of  the  mystic 
Jordan.  When  dying  he  exclaimed,  "  Raise  me 
higher,"  and  while  his  wasted  arms  encircled  our 
necks  for  the  last  time,,  God  sent  a  messenger  from 
above  and  took  him  home, 

Where  no  parted  friends 

Over  dying  loved  ones  have  to  weep  ; 
Where  no  bed  of  death  parental  love  attends, 

To  watch  the  coming  of  a  pulseless  sleep. 

We  laid  the  body  of  our  beautiful  boy  in  the 
grave,  but  we  left  him  not  to  slumber  alone,  for  we 
left  our  hearts  with  him.  Eight  years  of  severe  and 
dangerous    bodily   affliction   hare  come   and  gone 


62  THE   LIFE   OF   A   SUFFERER. 

since  that  memorable  day,  when  we  laid  the  skeleton 
form  of  our  child  in  the  dust,  and  I  now  hop  about 
on  crutches,  while  each  heart  throb  of  my  life  brings 
me  intense  pain,  and  in  this  condition  I  frequently 
sit  down  on  the  decayed  stumps  of  the  large  trees 
cut  down  by  the  hands  of  the  child  who  now  lies  in 
the  grave — cut  down  at  the  sacrifice  of  his  life  to 
open  the  way  to  provide  for  me,  and  I  weep  as  if  my 
heart  would  break.  I  cannot  refrain  from  weeping 
for  ray  faithful  son.  These  pages,  dear  reader,  are 
abundantly  watered  by  my  tears,  but  the  promise  he 
made,  "When  you  and  mother  die  I  will  meet  you 
on  the  shores  of  the  mystic  Jordan,"  swallows  mor- 
tality and  bids  defiance  to  the  grave.  It  bids  me 
look  up  to  Him  who  hears  my  sighs,  counts  my 
tears  and  feels  the  great  anguish  of  my  suffering 
heart.  When  I  die  I  will  doubtless  see  that  the  af- 
flictions and  many  ills  of  my  life  were  but  the  dis- 
guised regards  of  Almighty  goodness,  the  great 
shadows  of  heaven  resting  upon  the  vision  of  earth. 
When  our  loved  ones  die  and  angels  ask  for  tears  at 
the  sio-ht  of  the  heart's  fondest  ties  and  most  touch- 
ing affinities  rudely  wrecked  and  sundered  by  the 
hand  of  death — at  such  a  momen't  what  single 
thought  of  earth  or  heaven  could  so  increase  the 
sunset  splendor  of  the  soul,  the  cloudless  rainbow  of 
the  mind,  as  the  felt  assurance  of  reunion  in  heaven 
with  those  we  loved  and  trusted  here  ?  We  shall 
still  live  and  love  in  heaven. 


THE    LTFE   OF   A    SUFFERER.  Qg 

How  beautiful  is  that  description  by  the  poet  of 
the  parent  and  children  meeting  together  in  heaven  : 

"  And  when  I  saw  ray  little  children  unchanged, 
And  heard  them  fondly  call  rae  by  my  name, 

Then  is  the  bond  of  parent  and  of  child 
Unbroken,  I  exclaimed,  and  drew  them  closer  to  my  heart 
and  rejoiced." 

After  the  death  and  burial  of  our  son  my  family 
again  resumed  labor,  enduring  many  great  priva- 
tions, until  hope  began  to  sing  her  cheerful  song,  en- 
couraging us  to  believe  that  we  would  at  last  become 
self-sustaining.  But  alas!  just  then  another  son, 
fourteen  years  old, got  hurt  while  hauling  logs,and  was 
made  a  helpless  cripple  for  life.  Physicians  ex- 
pressed the  opinion  that  his  injury  had  produced 
white  swelling,  and  they  cut  to  the  bone  below  and 
above  the  knee  joint,  making  ugly  wounds  and  dis- 
covering nothing  but  blood.  This  operation  pro- 
duced eryesipelas,  and  in  my  opinion  killed  the 
bones  below  and  above  the  joint,  and  thus  brought 
on  true  necrosis.  This  dear  son  has  been  a  suffering 
cripple  five  years.  He  lay  in  bed  nine  months  suf- 
fering excruciating  pain.  Honeycombed  bones  have 
come  out  of  his  limb,  and  now  it  is  only  a  question 
of  time  when  he  will  have  to  undergo  an  amputation. 
It  seems  strange  that  in  each  case  these  painful,  dan- 
gerous and  long  continued  family  afflictions  com- 
pletely baffled  the  skill  of  many  physicians,  and  bade 
defiance  to  all  healing  art.     The  doctors  seemed  un- 


6-J.  THE   LIFE   OF   A   SUFFERER. 

able  to  fathom  the  nature  of  the  disease  and  were 
powerless  even  to  alleviate  the  intense  sufferings  of 
their  patients. 

In  these  family  afflictions  our  work  was  interfered 
with  and  our  expenses  greatly  increased,  but  the 
Lord,  who  is  invincible  in  power  and  supreme  in 
authority,  who  gave  fragrance  and  beauty  to  the 
flowers  and  bread  to  the  ravens,  that  they  might  be 
vehicles  of  mercy  to  His  people,  caused  Christian 
friends  North  and  South  to  remember  us  in  our 
great  and  trying  troubles.  Without  solicitation,  the 
First  English  Lutheran  Church  in  Cincinnati,  Ohio, 
remembered  us  on  four  Christmas  occasions,  each 
time  sending  money,  clothing,  and  other  useful 
articles,  which  lessened  the  burdens  resting  upon 
our  weary  shoulders  and  sorrowing  hearts. 

Louis  Manss,  of  Cincinnati,  Ohio,  and  his  faithful 
Christian  family,  did  much  to  cheer  our  troubled 
minds.     Rev.   Edmund  Belfour,   D.  D.,  Rev.  J.  K. 

Melhorn  and  theircongregations,  Dr.  W.  A.  P , 

Pittsburgh,  Pa.,  Trinity  Lutheran  Church,  Lancas- 
ter, Pa.,  Rev.  Charles  Fry,  pastor;  Rev.  Jacob 
Fry,  D.  D.,  Reading,  Pa.  ;  Rev.  L.  E.  Albert, 
D.  D.,  and  his  people,  Philadelphia,  Pa.  ;  St.  Mark's 
Church,  Rev.  Samuel  Laird,  pastor,  Philadelphia, 
Pa.  ;  Miss  Annie  Gundaker,  and  other  Christian 
friends,  came  to  our  rescue  and  encouraged  us  by 
words  and  deeds  of  brotherly  kindness. 

"  The  least  flower  with  a  brimming  cup  may  stand, 
And  share  its  dewdrop  with  another  near." 


THE    LIFE   OF   A    SUFFERER.  65 

For  many  years  I  have  been  face  to  face  with 
trouble, — with  continuous  unbroken  mysteries — 
with  bitter  disappointment,  with  personal  and  family 
afflictions  and  bereavement.  My  cup  of  sorrow  has 
been  filled  again  and  again  after  I  have  drained  it  of 
its  very  dregs.  Misfortunes  oi  various  kinds  have 
followed  me,  and  I  have  been  made  to  pass  through 
the  circle  of  suffering,  but  I  have  submitted  all  dis- 
tressing problems  to  God  without  questioning,  and 
in  the  firm  faith  that  He  seeks  my  highest  good.  I 
repose  on  my  own  heavenly  Father's  love  without 
demanding  to  know  the  reasons  for  His  special  deal- 
ings with  me. 

"  I  do  not  ask  my  cross  to  understand, 
My  way  to  see  ; 
Better  in  darkness  just  to  feel  Thy  hand, 

And  follow  Thee : 
Joy  is  like  restless  day,  but  peace  divine 

Like  quiet  night ; 
Lead  me,  0  Lord,  till  perfect  day  shall  shine 
Through  peace  to  light." 

Suffering  seems  to  be  the  law  of  my  life.  There 
has  not  been  one  day  in  twelve  years  when  I  could 
truthfully  say,  "I  am  well."  It  is  given  to  me  to 
suffer  for  God's  sake.  In  other  worlds  I  shall  more 
perfectly  serve  Him  and  love  Him,  praise  Him, 
work  for  Him, 

"  Grow  nearer  and  nearer  Him  with  all  delight; 
But  then  1  shall  not  any  more  be  called 
To  suffer,  which  is  my  appointment  here." 
5 


QQ  THE    LIFE   OF   A    SUFFERER. 

I  sit  with  Job  in  ashes,  but  I  am  not  comfortless, 
nor  do  I  regret  the  day  of  my  birth.  To  quarrel 
and  fret  over  my  afflictions  would  not  free  me  from 
them.  That  would  make  them  heavier  and  life 
more  miserable.  I  cannot  ignore  them  and  refuse 
to  recognize  them,  for  they  will  not  down  at  my 
bidding.  The  best  physicians  have  been  unable  to 
remove  them.  They  assert  themselves  in  every 
inch  of  my  body,  and  thrust  themselves  across  the 
pathway  of  my  family,  destroying  the  life  and 
health  of  my  children.  What  can  I  do  with  these 
terrible  double  afflictions  and  pressing  cares  ?  Peter 
solves  the  difficulty  by  telling  me  to  cast  all  my 
care  upon  God  ;  and  herein  he  only  repeats  the  older 
advice  of  the  Psalmist,  "  Cast  thy  burden  upon  the 
Lord."  The  Bible  says,  "  Who  is  among  you  that 
feareth  the  Lord,  that  obeyeth  the  voice  of  his  serv- 
ants, that  walketh  in  darkness  and  hath  no  light  ? 
Let  him  trust  in  the  name  of  the  Lord,  and  stay 
upon  his  God."  '*  Wait  on  the  Lord  ;  be  of  good 
courage,  and  he  shall  strengthen  thy  heart."  "  Be 
careful  for  nothing,  but  in  everything  with  prayer 
and  supplication,  with  thanksgiving,  let  your 
requests  be  made  known  to  God."  "  Cast  thy  bur- 
den upon  the  Lord,  and  He  shall  sustain  thee." 
His  promises  ask  me  to  lay  my  burdens  upon  Him, 
because  He  careth  for  me,  and  will  help  me,  and 
strengthen  me,  and  comfort   me.     With  a  resigned 


THE    LIFE   OF   A    SUFFERER.  67 

heart  and  submissive  will  I  look  to  God  for  grace 
and  strength,  and  rest  upon  His  promises  and  pro- 
vidences with  a  submissive  spirit.  I  cannot  explain 
why  the  Lord  permits  me  to  be  so  sorely  afflicted, 
but  I  know  that  my  heavenly  Father  is  just,  and 
loving,  and  true.  I  transfer  my  burden  of  cares 
upon  Him,  and  they  become  bonds  of  union  and 
sources  of  strength.  They  teach  me  to  lean  pn  Him 
more  constantly  and  more  lovingly,  and  so  promote 
and  sweeten  my  communion  with  Him.  He  is  will- 
ing for  all  His  children  to  lean  on  Him. 

"  Sufferer  of  my  love,  lean  hard, 
And  let  me  feel  the  pressure  of  thy  care ; 
I  know  thy  burden,  sufferer ;  I  shaped  it, 
Poised  it  in  my  own  hand,  made  no  proportion 
In  its  weight  to  thine  unaided  strength ; 
For  even  as  1  laid  it  on,  I  said, 
I  shall  be  near,  and  while  he  leans  on  me 
The  burden  shall  be  mine,  not  his : 
So  shall  I  keep  my  sufferer  within  the  circling  arms 
Of  mine  own  love.     Here  lay  it  down,  nor  fear 
To  impose  it  on  a  shoulder  which  upholds 
The  government  of  worlds.     Yet  closer  come ; 
Thou  art  not  near  enough  ;  I  would  embrace  thy  care, 
So  I  might  feel  my  sufferer  reposing  on  my  breast. 
Thou  lovest  me  ?    I  know  it.     Doubt  not,  then  ; 
But,  loving  me,  lean  hard." 

Leaning  on  Jesus   Christ,  I  rest   secure   in    my 
place,  and  exclaim : 

"  Precious  Saviour,  more  than  life  to  me, 
I  am  leaning  hard  on  Thee  ; 
Through  this  changing  world  below, 
Sustain  me  gently  as  I  go." 


(3$  THE  LIFE  OF  A  SUFFERER. 

In  the  year  1S87,  soon  after  my  crippled  son  re- 
covered sufficient  strength  to  use  crutches,  I  was 
stricken  down  with  valvular  heart  disease,  which  for 
a  long  time  compelled  me  to  occupy  a  sitting  pos- 
ture in  my  bed.  Many  nights  my  wife  sat  in  the 
bed  and  held  me,  while  I  reclined  on  her  breast, 
only  sleeping  a  few  moments  at  a  time.  This  stop- 
page in  the  action  of  my  heart  arrested  the  flow  of 
blood  to  my  brain,  producing  indescribable  feelings 
and  great  agony  of  mind.  I  lay  in  bed  almost  the 
whole  of  one  summer,  and  the  least  physical  exer- 
tion or  mental  excitement  invariably  brought  on 
paroxysms  of  my  heart.  Physicians  who  visited 
me  abandoned  all  hope  of  my  life  and  told  the 
people  in  the  neighborhood  that  I  could  not  survive. 
In  their  opinion  my  case  was  hopeless.  While  I  was 
in  this  precarious  and  helpless  condition  my  young- 
est son,  ten  years  old,  who  had  gone  on  an  errand  to 
a  neighbor's  house  was  carried  home  screaming  and 
bleeding,  and  was  laid  on  the  bed.  The  calf  of  his 
leg  was  badly  torn  by  a  large  and  vicious  dog. 
Physicians  pronounced  the  wounds  dangerous  and 
with  great  difficulty  stitched  the  injured  parts  to- 
gether. The  wounds  were  carefully  dressed  every 
day,  and  the  child  suffered  a  great  deal.  This  mis- 
fortune happened  in  April,  1888,  and  it  was  many 
weeks  before  he  could  walk.  My  home  seems  a 
place  consecrated  by   suffering,  tears  and    prayers. 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SUFFERER.  69 

Sorrow  is  the  very  woof  which  is  woven  into  the 
warp  of  my  life.  God  created  my  nerves  to  agonize 
and  my  heart  to  bleed,  and  almost  every  nerve  has 
thrilled  with  pain,  and  every  affection  has  been 
wounded.  I  have  been  baptized  with  affliction,  and 
in  it  discerned  the  divine  sacredness  of  sorrow,  and 
the  profound  meaning  which  is  concealed  in  pain. 
How  strangely  has  suffering  been  meted  out  to  me 
and  to  my  loved  ones.  I  do  not  cry  out  in  misery 
and  anguish  as  Job  did,  and  expostulate  with  the 
Most  High  because  of  the  mysterious  visitations.  I 
am  willing  to  be  used  as  His  will  directs.  He  does 
not  take  away  my  pain,  or  heal  my  sickness  ;  but 
he  gives  me  strength  to  bear  it,  He  illumines  my 
suffering  life  with  these  promises,  "  When  thou 
passest  through  the  waters,  I  will  be  with  thee,  and 
through  the  rivers,  they  shall  not  overflow  thee  ; 
when  thou  walkest  through  the  fire,  thou  shalt  not  be 
burned,  neither  shall  the  flames  kindle  upon  thee," 
'•  Whom  the  Lord  loveth  He  chasteneth,  and  scourg- 
eth  every  son  whom  he  receiveth." 

Claiming  these  promises, 
Misfortune  never  can  move  me, 
No  judgment  can  dismay. 
For  Jesus,  who  doth  love  me, 
Walks  with  me  day  by  day. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

On  the  14th  of  January,  1889,  I  was  doomed  to 
suffer  the  most  heart-rending  calamity  of  my  unfor- 
tunate life.  Scarcely  able  to  be  out  of  my  bed,  I 
attempted  a  journey  a  mile  from  home,  my  horse 
ran  away,  I  was  caught  in  the  wheel  of  the  vehicle 
and  my  foot,  with  the  exception  of  the  tendon,  was 
torn  off,  leaving  several  inches  of  the  bare  bone  pro- 
jecting. Immediately  after  the  accident,  I  sat  up 
and  cut  off  my  boot,  only  to  discover  that  one  of 
my  poor  feet  on  which  I  had  traveled  hundreds  of 
miles  to  preach  God's  Word,  was  almost  entirely 
separated  from  my  poor  frail  body.  I  was  taken 
home  to  my  weeping  family  in  a  wagon  that  had 
no  springs,  and  every  inch  of  the  rough  road  pro- 
duced great  suffering.  Physicians  stretched  the 
contracted  tendon  and  let  the  joint  fly  back  into  its 
socket.  This  caused  me  the  greatest  pain  I  ever 
endured.  After  a  few  days  they  put  the  limb  into 
a  box  of  wheat  bran.  Fermentation  took  place  and 
this  produced  a  bad  case  of  mortification.  I  lay 
nine  days  suffering  more  than  human  tongue  can  de- 
scribe, and  the  foot  turned  dark  and  fell  out  of 
socket,  leaving  the  ends  of  the  bones  exposed.  Two 
and  sometimes  three  doctors  came  every  day,  stood 
at  the  foot   of  the  bed  and  stared  at  my  poor  de- 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SUFFERER.  *J \ 

cayed  limb.  My  wife  dressed  my  wounds  with 
greater  tenderness  and  skill  than  any  of  the 
physicians.  One  day  I  pointed  to  the  foot 
as  it  lay  on  one  side,  and  to  the  dark  bones 
as  they  projected  in  another  direction,  and 
said  to  the  medical  men,  "  Gentlemen,  that  leg  will 
have  to  be  amputated."  They  promptly  assented. 
The  next  day  was  appointed  for  the  operation.  I 
used  every  effort  to  avoid  the  knives  of  inexpe- 
rienced men  by  telegraphing  to  skilled  physicians  in 
Salisbury,  1ST.  C,  requesting  them  to  come  to  my 
assistance,  but  the  distance,  cold,  ice  and  other 
things  prevented  them  from  responding.  The  attend- 
ing physicians  came  at  the  appointed  time,  the  23rd 
of  January,  1889,  ate  their  dinners,  held  a  private 
consultation,  and  then  announced  that  they  were 
ready  to  perform  the  operation.  I  could  not  secure 
the  services  of  more  competent  men  and  I  was 
obliged  to  submit.  The  house  and  yard  were  full 
of  men  and  even  of  women,  who  seemed  anxious  to 
witness  the  amputation.  My  wife  and  children 
kneeled  around  my  bed,  while  I  prayed  that  a  mer- 
ciful God  would  take  them  under  His  special  care, 
and  give  me  the  needed  strength  to  endure  the  fear- 
ful trial  just  before  me.  I  took  each  of  my  weeping 
loved  ones  by  the  hand,  blessed  them,  kissed  them 
and  bade  them  adieu,  and  then  calling  for  the  chloro- 
form, which  was  administered  in  large  quantities,  in 


72  THE  LIFE  OF  A  SUFFERER. 

a  short  time  T  was  perfectly  oblivious  to  the  world 
around  me.  I  was  one  hour  under  the  knives,  saw 
and  needles  of  the  doctors.  The  bones  had  been 
severed  and  I  suppose  it  must  have  been  when  the 
physicians  injured  a  nerve  that  my  consciousness 
returned,  and  I  immediately  knew  everything  that 
was  being  done.  The  remaining  arteries  were 
caught,  and  the  flaps  stitched  without  the  use  of 
any  more  chloroform,  and  nothing  but  Almighty 
power  could  give  me  the  the  ability  to  describe  the 
awful  suffering  I  endured  while  this  was  being  accom- 
plished. The  operation  was  finally  finished,  and  I 
was  carried  to  my  bed,  but  believing  that  my  leg 
had  been  cut  off  where  the  flesh  was  unsound,  I 
remarked  to  the  physicians:  "You  have  amputated 
my  limb  too  low  down,  in  inflamed  material  and 
thus  ruined  me."  They  replied.  uKo,  Mr.  Fesper- 
man,  we  cut  it  off  there  because  we  knew  that  when 
you  got  well  you  would  desire  to  wear  a  pretty  little 
artificial  foot." 

The  doctors  in  performing  the  operation  had  in- 
jured a  nerve,  and  made  a  flap  too  short,  which, 
being  inflamed,  quickly  sloughed  away,  leaving  the 
bones  and  the  marrow  in  them  exposed  many  weeks 
before  any  sign  of  healing  appeared.  The  lack  of 
skill  in  the  administration  of  the  chloroform  caused 
it  to  take  all  the  skin  from  my  lips,  mouth,  tongue 
and  throat.    My  wife  took  fine  linen  cloth  and  wiped 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SUFFERER.  73 

the  burnt  flesh  oat  of  my  throat  and  mouth.  I  ex- 
pectorated blood  and  my  lungs  felt  as  if  they  would 
burn  up.  The  injured  nerve  in  the  stump  of  my 
leg  had  the  constant  sensation  of , being  in  a  blaze  of 
fire.  I  am  unable  to  describe  the  fearful  sufferings 
I  endured.  Soon  after  the  operation  was  finished, 
I  commenced  sinking  and  lingered  between  death 
and  life  until  the  sixth  day,  when  the  first  sign  of 
improvement  appeared. 

During  this  time  intervals  of  consciousness  re- 
turned, and  on  each  occasion  I  would  feebly  inquire  : 
"  Where  is  my  baby  boy?  "  The  mother,  who  sat 
by  my  side,  would  answer :  u  Here  he  is,  with  his 
head  on  my  lap."  Looking  at  him  satisfied  me, 
and  my  mind  would  then  immediately  launch  out 
into  unconsciousness,  and  I  imagined  that  angels 
were  flitting  round  me  and  that  I  was  walking  on  the 
stub  of  my  amputated  leg,  crossing  creeks,  rivers 
and  oceans,  always  carrying  my  precious  child  in 
my  arms.  I  verily  believe  that  the  constant  pres- 
ence of  this  dear  boy  greatly  assisted  me  to  fight  a 
strong  battle  for  life.  I  had  five  other  children, 
whom  I  loved  equally  well,  but  he  being  the  young- 
est, was  more  constantly  on  my  mind. 

My  faithful  wife  sat  by  my  bed  and  watched  me 
day  and  night  nearly  six  weeks  without  any  rest 
except  what  she  obtained  by  placing  her  head  on 
my  pillow    and  thus   sleeping  a  few  moments  at  a 


74  THE    LIFE    OF   A   SUFFERER. 

time.     The  Lord  strengthened  her  in  her  vigils  by 
my  side. 

"  God  gives  His  angels  charge  of  those  who  sleep, 
But  He  Himself  watches  with  those  who  wake. 

The  Lord  watched  by  my  bedside  with  my  wife 
and  sustained  her  strength  and  courage. 
"  God  made  suffering  the  Law  of  my  life, 
But  He  Himself  came  to  me,  and  stood 
Beside  me,  gazing  down  on  me  with  eyes 
That  smiled,  and  suffered  ;  that  smote  my  heart, 
With  their  own  pity,  to  a  passionate  peace  ; 
And  reached  to  me  Himself  the  Holy  cup, 
Saying,  'Intense  sufferer,  drink  with  me,' 
My  pale  brow  will  compel  thee,  my  pure  hands 
Will  minister  unto  thee  ;  thou  shalt  take 
Of  this  communion  through  the  solemn  depths 
Of  the  dark  waters  of  thine  earthly  agony, 
With  a  heart  that  praises  Me,  that  yearns  to  Me, 
The  closer  through  this  hour.     Hold  fast  my  hand, 
Though  the  nails  pierce  thine  too  ;  take  only  care 
Lest  one  drop  of  the  sacramental  wine 
Be  spilled,  of  that  which  ever  shall  unite 
Thee,  soul  and  body,  to  thy  living  Lord. 
I  will  not  leave  thee,  I  will  not  depart, 
Nor  lose  thee,  nor  forget  thee,  but  will  clasp 
Thee  closer  in  the  thrilling  of  my  arms. 
And  this  terrible  pain  and  agony  shall  make  thee 
Serve  Me  and  love  Me,  praise  Me,  and  work  for  Me. 
And  through  affliction  grow  nearer  and  nearer  to  Me." 

Too  weak  to  raise  my  head  from  the  pillow,  I 
lay,  day  and  ni^ht,  communing  with  my  precious 
Saviour,  and   every   moment  suffered   excruciating 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SUFFERER.  YO 

pains.  The  attending  physicians  and  visiting 
friends  considered  my  case  hopeless.  The  news 
that  I  was  standing  on  the  very  threshold  of  the 
grave — the  gateway  to  my  Father's  house  of  many 
mansions,  rapidly  spread  through  the  country. 
Presbyterian  and  Methodist  ministers  and  their 
congregations  offered  special  prayers  to  God  for  my 
recovery.  This  was  the  second  time  in  my  life 
when  the  people  of  different  denominations  unitedly 
asked  the  Lord  to  heal  my  sickness.  Revs.  Bagby 
and  Ivey,  Methodist  ministers,  with  whom  I  had  once 
associated,  came  in  person,  knelt  by  my  bed  and 
prayed  that  Almighty  God  would  graciously 
strengthen  and  raise  me  up  again.  My  faithful 
friend  and  esteemed  brother,  Rev.  W.  Kimball, 
hearing  of  my  helpless  condition,  came  from  his 
home  near  China  Grove  to  visit  and  comfort  me. 
Bro.  Kimball  had  once  been  my  pastor  andhispres- 
ence  did  much  to  encourage  me.  He  promptly 
sent  the  following  account  of  my  misfortune  to  the 
church  papers  : 

"  Rev.  J.  H.  Fesperman,  a  Lutheran  minister  of 
the  North  Carolina  Synod,  who  has  been  an  invalid 
for  nine  years,  unable  to  preach  or  do  any  labor, 
sustained  a  most  fearful  injury  on  Monday  last. 
Being  weak  and  sick  with  heart  disease,  he  started 
to  a  neighbor's  house  in  a  one-horse  wagon.  The 
horse  became  frightened  and  ran  away.  Bro.  Fes- 
perman   became   entangled    and    his   left    leg    was 


76  THE  LIFE  OF  A  SUFFERER. 

broken  and  the  foot  torn  entirely  out  of  the  socket, 
leaving  the  bone  projecting  at  least  three  inches, 
entirely  bare  of  skin.  The  physicians  who  set  and 
treated  the  leg,  said  in  all  their  practice  they  had 
not  seen  so  bad  a  case.  They  gave  not  the  least  en- 
couragement for  his  leg  or  life.  The  prevailing 
opinion  is  that  it  will  have  to  be  amputated,  which 
operation  his  physical  strength  will  not,  we  fear,  be 
able  to  bear.  For  more  than  eight  years  this 
brother  and  his  family  have  had  almost  constant 
and  double  affliction,  first  in  his  own  personal 
trouble,  consumption  ;  second,  the  loss  of  his  eldest 
son  ;  third,  the  affliction  of  the  sixteen-year-old  son, 
who  has  been  so  badly  maimed  with  white  swelling 
that  he  is  unable  to  perform  any  labor.  In  every 
instance  the  affliction  has  been  long  and  dreadful  ; 
and  finally  the  excruciating  calamity  which  has 
fallen  upon  the  head  of  the  family,  whose  feet  were 
near  the  brink  of  the  grave.  Sister  Fesperman,  in 
this  her  great  trial,  asks  the  prayers  and  sympathy 
of  the  entire  Church  of  God.  Surely  those  who 
are  being  blessed  with  the  abundance  of  this 
world's  goods  will  remember  this  sorely-afflicted 
brother  and  family  in  this  time  of  need. 

"W.  Kimball." 

This  article  from  the  pen  of  brother  Kimball  ap- 
peared in  several  church  papers,  and  Mr.  C.  T. 
Bernhardt,  of  Salisbury,  N.  C,  was  the  first  person 
to  transmit  pecuniary  aid,  which  he  accompanied 
with  his  sincere  sympathy.  Many  of  my  brethren 
whose  names  I  would  be  glad  to  mention,  sent  me 
words  of   cheer  with   substantial    tokens   of   their 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SUFFERER.  77 

Christian  sympathy.  Friends  at  China  Grove, 
through  Rev.  W.  Kimball,  the  congregations  of 
Revs.  Chas.  B.  King,  Father  Rothrock,  Wright 
Campbell,  F.  W.  E.  Peschau  and  William  Lutz 
contributed  to  sustain  me  in  my  desperate  affliction 
and  trying  trouble.  Letters  of  Christian  love  and 
brotherly  affection  came  to  me  from  California, 
Kansas,  Nebraska,  and  from  the  east  and  west, 
north  and  south,  conveying  small  sums  of  money 
for  my  benefit,  and  telling  me  of  prayers  that  were 
going  up  to  God  in  my  behalf.  These  pecuniary 
gifts  provided  comforts  for  myself  and  family  and 
paid  the  physicians  who  visited  me  every  day. 
Doctors  traveled  twelve  miles  each  trip  they  made, 
and  coming  every  day,  even  at  half  rates,  amounted 
to  no  little  expense  for  me.  Revs.  Peschau,  Kim- 
ball and  King  kept  themselves  informed  of  my 
physical,  temporal  and  spiritual  condition,  for  which 
they  shall  ever  have  my  profound  gratitude. 

"  If  none  were  sick  and  none  were  sad, 

What  service  could  we  render  ? 
I  think  if  we  were  always  glad, 

We  scarcely  could  be  tender. 
Did  our  friends  never  need 

Patient  ministration, 
Earth  would  grow  cold  and  lose,  indeed, 

Its  sweetest  consolation." 

I  lay  in  bed  many  months  not  knowing  the  cause 
of  my  ever-present  and  awful  sufferings,    until  sur- 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SUFFERER. 


geons  North,  through  correspondence,  informed  me 
that  my  main  nerve  was  injured,  that  each  pulsation 
of  my  heart  rushed  the  blood  to  the  end  of  the 
artery  and  jerking  an  attached  nerve,  produced  pain 
at  everv  throb.  If  the  physicians  who  per- 
formed the  operation  of  amputation,  and  who  visited 
me  every  day,  knew  the  cause  of  my  indescribable 
misery,  they  preferred  to  let  the  secret  go  with  me 
into  the  grave,  rather  than  to  divulge.  Yery  dis- 
tinguished surgeons  have  informed  me  that  the 
operation  of  "  dividing  the  nerve  "  could  have  been 
successfully  performed  if  the  attempt  had  been 
made  before  the  surrounding  tissues  were  diseased. 
I  asked  the  attending  physicians  to  please  explain 
why  I  had  to  suffer  perpetual  torture,  but  they 
replied,  "  We  don't  know."  The  history  of  succes- 
ful  amputations  develops  the  fact  that  after  the 
second  or  third  week  the  pain  gradually  disappears. 
But  in  my  case  it  has  been  otherwise.  Long  and 
constant  suffering  has  caused  a  cancerous  growth, 
called  a  "  neuroma,"  to  form  under  the  skin  on  the 
end  of  the  injured  nerve.  This  terrible  tumor 
grows,  jerks,  quivers,  pains  and  burns  without 
cessation,  as  if  the  stump  of  the  limb  were  in  a  vessel 
of  scalding  water,  and  nothing  will  bring  alleviation. 
Receiving  no  relief  from  physicians  in  Iredell  Co., 
I  commenced  corresponding  with  noted  surgeons  in 
Baltimore,   Md.,  and  in  Richmond,  Va.,  and   their 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SUFFERER.  7q 

answers  to  my  inquiries  developed  a  perfect  unan- 
imity of  opinion  concerning  my  case.  On  Friday, 
July  the  2ud,  1889,  Rev.  F.  W.  E.  Peschau,  D.  D., 
of  Wilmington,  N.  O,  President  of  the  Evangelical 
Lutheran  Synod  of  North  Carolina,  visited  me, 
offered  prayer  to  God  in  my  behalf,  and  spent 
several  hours  of  edifying  social  conversation  with 
me.  On  Saturday,  July  the  3rd,  Bro.  Peschau 
returned  and  administered  the  Holy  Communion  to 
myself  and  family. 

Christ  is  a  living  presence  everywhere, 

And  He  has  countless  means,  and  voices  low  and  sweet, 

We  cannot  be  where  we  will  not  meet 

Some  message  of  His  tender  love  and  care. 

My  dear  Saviour  comes  to  me  in  the  Holy  Com- 
munion and  makes  common  things  sacred,  and 
perishable  things  precious,  and  dark  things  bright, 
and  sorrowful  things  a  source  of  strength,  and 
gladness  and  safety.  If  a  man's  misfortunes  ex- 
cluded him  from  an  acceptable  participation  in  the 
Lord's  Supper,  then  I  should  be  miserable,  but, 
believing  that  there  is  no  path  so  hard,  so  rough,  so 
lowly,  or  so  dark  that  he  who  walks  therein  may 
not  hope  to  meet  Christ  in  the  way,  I  remain  cheer- 
ful, and  say, 

"  Out  of  myself,  dear  Lord, 
0,  lift  me  up  ! 
No  more  I  trust  myself  in  life's  dim  maze, 
Sufficient  to  myself  in  all  its  devious  ways, 
I  trust  no  more,  but  humbly  at  Thy  throne 
Pray,  "  Lead  me,  for  1  cannot  go  alone." 


80  THE  LIFE  OF  A  SUFFERER. 

Out  of  ray  weary  self, 
O,  lift  me  up  ! 
I  faint :  the  road  winds  upward  all  the  way  ; 
Each  night  but  ends  another  weary  day. 
Give  me  Thy  strength,  and  I  may  be  so  blest 
As  "  on  the  heights  "  I  find  the  longed-for  rest. 

Out  of  my  selfish  self, 
0,  lift  me  up  ! 
To  live  for  others,  and  in  living  so, 
To  be  a  blessing  wheresoe'er  I  go, 
To  give  the  sunshine,  and  the  clouds  conceal, 
Or  let  them  but  the  silver  clouds  reveal. 

Out  of  my  lonely  self, 
0,  lift  me  up  ! 
Tho'  other  hearts  with  love  are  running  o'er, 
Tho'  dear  ones  fill  my  lonely  home  no  more, 
Tho'  every  day  I  miss  the  fond  caress, 
Help  me  to  join  in  others'  happiness. 

Out  of  my  doubting  self, 
0,  lift  me  up  ! 
Help  me  to  feel  that  Thou  art  always  near, 
That  tho'  'tis  night  and  all  around  seems  drear, 
Help  me  to  know  that  tho'  I  cannot  see, 
It  is  my  Father's  hand  that  leadeth  me." 


CHAPTER  V. 

As  soon  as  I  was  able  to  leave  home  I  had  my- 
self conveyed  to  Salisbury,  N.  C.  Rev.  Chas.  B. 
King,  pastor  of  St.  John's  Lutheran  Church,  met 
me  at  the  station,  accompanied  me  to  comfortable 
quarters  which  he  had  previously  provided, 
showed  me  many  tender  acts  of  brotherly  kind- 
ness, and  before  I  left  thoughtfully  handed  me  the 
money  to  pay  my  expenses.  The  physicians  exam- 
ined ray  limb,  expressing  the  opinion  that  it  would 
gradually  become  worse,  and  that  my  only  hope  of 
relief  would  be  through  re-amputation.  Although 
suffering  without  a  moment  of  cessation,  I  could  not 
abandon  the  belief  that  the  nerve  and  artery  couldl 
be  divided  by  surgical  skill.  I  knew  that  the  physi- 
cians in  Salisbury  were  men  of  ability,  and  I  re- 
turned home  much  discouraged,  only  to  realize  that 
the  belief  of  the  medical  men  in  regard  to  my  case 
was  correct.  My  sufferings  increased,  I  applied 
poultices,  laudanum,  chloroform,  ether,  cocaine, 
creosote,  oil  of  peppermint,  and  everything  that  sug- 
gested itself  to  my  mind,  but  nothing  alleviated  the 
pain  a  single  moment.  I  wrote  to  distinguished 
surgeons  and  physicians  in  Baltimore,  Md.,  and  in 
Richmond,  Va.,  giving  them  a  minute  description  of 


82  THE  LIFE  OF  A  SUFFERER. 

my  case.  Some  of  them  expressed  the  opinion  that 
if  they  could  see  me  personally  they  could  determine 
whether  it  was  possible  to  divide  the  nerve  and  ar- 
tery, and  thus  relieve  me. 

I  could  not  hop  on  my  crutches  unless  my  wife  or 
one  of  my  children  carried  my  leg  in  front  of  me. 
This  was  done  by  putting  a  scarf  around  my  limb, 
holding  it  up  and  walking  before  me.  Notwith- 
standing this,  I  again  went  to  Salisbury  to  consult 
physicians,  but  they  assured  me  that  my  condition 
had  grown  more  critical,  and  reiterated  the  opinion 
that  nothing  except  re-amputation  would  relieve  me. 
1  requested  one  of  the  oldest  surgeons  in  Salisbury, 
who  knew  the  condition  of  my  lungs  and  heart,  to 
please  place  himself  as  if  in  the  very  presence  of  Al- 
mighty God,  and  in  such  an  attitude  to  express  his 
opinion  in  regard  to  my  recovery  from  re-amputation. 
He  quietly  and  kindly  answered :  "  Mr.  Fesper- 
man,  prepare  everything  before  you  undergo  the 
next  operation,  for  you  will  expire  under  the  knife." 
I  went  away  from  the  surgeon's  office  with  these 
words  on  m}T  tongue : 

"  All  the  sorrows,  all  the  ill, 
Which  my  Heavenly  Father's  will 
Has  already  made  me  bear, 
Or  in  future  may  prepare, 
While  I  run  my  earthly  race, 
I  will  meet  all  in  its  place, 
Bold  and  cheerful  by  His  grace." 

"Get  everything  ready  before  you  have  your   leg 
re-amputated,  for  you  will  expire  under  the  knife," 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SUFFERER.  83 

were  words  uttered  by  an  experienced  physician, 
and  they  had  no  small  influence  on  my  mind.  No 
man  possessing  a  sound  mind  will  rush  on  death, 
neither  will  he  risk  his  life  so  long  as  he  can  avoid 
it.  Being  hedged  in  on  all  sides  by  lung  and  heart 
troubles,  and  other  difficulties,  all  of  which  pre- 
cluded the  thought  of  safety  in  undergoing  another 
operation,  I  resolved  to  go  home,  trusting  that  the 
day  would  yet  come  when  I  could  say,  "  The  Lord 
hath  done  all  things  well.     He  chose   this   path  for 


"  No  feeble  chance,  nor  hard,  relentless  fate, 

But  love,  His  love,  hath  placed  my  footsteps  here 
He  knew  the  way  was  rough  and  desolate  ; 

Knew  how  ray  heart  would  often  sink  with  fear, 
Yet  tenderly  He  whispers,  '  Sufferer,  I  see 
This  path  is  best  for  thee.' 
He  chose  this  path  for  me, 
And  well  He  knew  that  I  must  tread  alone 

Ps  gloomy  vales  and  ford  each  flowing  stream  ;• 
Knew  how  my  bleeding  heart  would  sobbing  moan, 

Dear  Lord,  to  wake  and  And  it  alia  dream, 
Love  scanned  it  all,  yet  still  could  say,  I  see 
This  rath  is  best  for  thee. 
He  chose  this  path  for  mp. 
Even  while  He  knew  the  fearful  midnight  gloom, 
My  timid,  shrinking  soul  must  travel  through; 
How  towering  rocks  wrou!doft  before  me  loom, 

And  apparitions  meet  my  frightened  view 
Still  comes  the  whisper,  '  Sufferer,  I  see 
This  path  is  best  for  thee.' 
He  chose  this  path  for  me. 
What  need  I  more,  than  this  sweel  truth  to  know, 
That  all  along  these  strange,  bewildering  ways 
O'er  rocky  steeps  and  w^here  dark  rivers  flow 

His  loving  arms  will  bear  me  '  all  the  days,' 
A  few  steps  more,  and  [  myself  shall  see 
This  path  is  best  for  me." 


84  THE  LIFE  OF  A  SUFFERER. 

In  the  summer  of  1889,  after  I  returned  from  my 
visit  to  the  doctors  in  Salisbury,  my  sufferings  were 
so  intense  that  I  was  liable  to  the  lock-jaw.  Being 
afraid  of  falling  into  the  hands  of  incompetent  physi- 
cians, I  determined  to  move  to  Salisbury,  where  I 
could  be  near  prompt  and  efficient  surgical  and  medi- 
cal assistance. 

Informing  my  friend  and  brother,  Rev.  Chas.  B. 
King,  in  whose  judgment  I  had  perfect  confidence, 
of  my  desire  to  locate  in  Salisbury,  that  I  might  be 
convenient  to  physicians  there,  he  selected  a  com- 
fortable house,  situated  in  a  quiet,  healthful  and 
good  neighborhood,  which  I  rented  and  moved  into 
in  September,  1889.  Distinguished  surgeons,  North, 
encouraged  me  to  believe  that  it  was  possible  to  re- 
lieve me  without  cutting  off  the  leg  another  time. 
But  I  did  not  possess  a  "  minister's  permit  "  to 
travel  over  the  different  railroads  at  reduced  rates, 
and  I  knew  that  without  this  permit  the  expense  of 
going  North  to  see  surgeons  would  require  more 
money  than  I  was  able  to  command.  Here  again 
my  esteemed  brother,  Rev.  Charles  B.  King,  did  not 
fail  in  his  friendship  or  influence.  In  the  face  of 
obstacles  that  prevented  others  from  asking  such  a 
favor  for  me,  he  applied  for  a  "  Clerical  permit "  for 
me  to  visit  Baltimore,  and  the  railroad  officials 
promptly  granted  his  request.  Leaving  my  children 
in  the  care  of  brother  King,  and  accompanied  by  my 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SUFFERER.  85 

wife,  I  went  to  Baltimore  in  October,  1889,  entered 
the  Union  Protestant  Hospital,  where  we  con- 
sulted some  of  the  most  distinguished  surgeons  of 
the  city.  Soon  after  our  arrival,  Dr.  Fawcett,  the 
superintendent  of  the  hospital,  examined  my  chest, 
after  which  he  expressed  the  opinion  that  I  was  in- 
deed in  a  dangerous  condition,  and  at  the  same  time 
remarked,  that  he  would  not  attach  any  blame  to  me 
if  I  returned  home  the  next  day.  Dr.  Fawcett  is  an 
exceedingly  agreeable  and  intelligent  man.  He 
treats  his  patients  with  fatherly  kindness  and  in- 
spires their  confidence.  Rev.  S.  Stall  and  Rev.  W. 
P.  Evans,  Lutheran  pastors  in  the  city,  promptly 
called  on  me  and  proffered  their  services  to  aid  me 
in  securing  the  advice  of  the  most  talented  surgeons 
in  Baltimore.  God  bless  these  noble  pastors  !  They 
assured  me  of  their  sympathy  and  willingness  to 
abide  by  me.  They  tenderly  informed  me  that  if 
any  operation  were  performed  and  I  needed  pecu- 
niary aid  to  carry  me  through  long  confinement,  I 
might  expect  them  to  be  true  to  me.  These  breth- 
ren had  the  fine  sensibility  to  understand  my  feel- 
ings, and  the  judgment  to  know  what  would  be 
necessary,  and  they  have  my  profound  gratitude  for 
the  consideration  and  attention  they  showed  to  me 
while  I  lay  suffering  in  their  city. 


86  THE  LTFE  OF  A  SUFFERER. 

"  Blest  is  the  man 

Whose  breast  expands  with  generous  warmth 
A  brother's  woes  to  feel, 

And  bleeds  in  pity  o'er  the  wounds 
He  needs  the  power  to  heal. 

He  spreads  his  kind,  supporting  arms 
To  every  child  of  grief  ; 

His  secret  bounty  largely  flows, 
And  brings  unmasked  relief." 

Through  the  help  of  Brother  Stall,  I  had  quick 
access  to  the  presence  of  some  of  the  most  prominent 
surgeons  in  Baltimore.  Dr.  Allen  P.  Smith  is  a 
distinguished  surgeon,  and  a  very  kind  gentleman. 
He  visited  me  three  times,  and  I  also  consulted  him 
in  his  office,  but  he  considered  it  impracticable  to 
attempt  to  relieve  me  in  any  way  except  through  re- 
amputation.  The  celebrated  surgeon,  Tiffany,  of 
the  University  Hospital,  richly  deserves  the  great 
distinction  the  public  confers  upon  him.  He  re- 
ceived me  with  great  urbanity,  examined  my  con- 
dition with  much  patience  and  tenderness,  and  then 
with  kindness  and  candor  gave  me  his  opinion,  say- 
ing, "Ke-amputation  is  the  only  sure  remedy  for 
your  sufferings.  Your  pain  will  gradually  increase 
and  become  so  intense  that  you  will  be  obliged  to 
remove  the  limb  or  expire  with  it  on  you.  You  are 
here  now  and  can  travel  about  on  your  crutches,  but 
if  I  put  you  on  the  operating  table  and  re-amputate 
your  leg,  you  may  expire  in  two  minutes.  Now,  I 
have  given  you  my  opinion,  and  if  you  desire  me  to 


THE   LIFE   OF   A    SUFFERER.  87 

perform  the  operation,  I  will  cheerfully  go  to  any 
place  in  the  city  and  re-amputate  your  .limb,  and  if 
you  survive,  I  will  wait  on  you  like  a  son."  I  cer- 
tainly love  and  reverence  this  great  and  noble  sur- 
geon for  his  ability,  candor  and  kindness.  When  I 
left  the  room  he  accompanied  me  to  the  door,  offered 
to  assist  me  on  the  street  car  and  left  the  image  of 
his  greatness  written  for  all  time  on  my  mind.  After 
this  interview  we  deemed  it  best  to  return  to  our 
children  in  Salisbury,  N.  C.  Rev.  S.  Stall,  learning 
of  our  intention  to  leave  the  city,  handed  us  fifty 
dollars  from  the  "  Ministerial  Relief  Society  of  Balti- 
more," which  sum  amounted  to  within  twenty  dol- 
lars ot  the  expenses  incurred  by  the  trip.  We  left 
Baltimore  with  sad  hearts.  I  had  been  informed  by 
surgeons  of  very  great  ability  that  my  leg  was  a 
"  sample  of  miserable  surgical  inefficiency,"  that  the 
condition  of  my  lungs  and  heart  made  it  exceedingly 
dangerous  for  me  to  take  chloroform,  that  the 
shrunken  and  diseased  state  of  my  muscles  and 
nerves  would  doubtless  cause  sloughing  to  occur, 
that  nothing  except  re-amputation  would  free  me 
from  constant  misery,  and  that  this  kind  of  operation 
would  in  all  probability  quickly  prove  fatal. 

We  returned  from  Baltimore  to  Salisbury,  and 
found  our  children  well,  for  which  blessing  we  de- 
voutly thanked  our  dear  Lord.  With  hope  in  God 
and  my  hold  on  heaven,  I  determined  to  try  to  bear 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SUFFERER. 


my  sufferings,  and  to  wait  and  pray,  trusting  that 
some  remedy  might  yet  be  found  to  alleviate  my 
misery,  but  my  pain  gradually  became  more  intense. 
Day  after  day,  and  night  after  night,  I  held  my 
withered,  painful  limb  in  my  hand,  and  prayed 
that  my  precious  Saviour,  who  holds  the  world  on 
His  arm,  and  the  stars  in  His  right  hand,  would 
mercifully  and  speedily  deliver  me.  Thus  suffering, 
without  abatement,  I  concluded  to  visit  a  famous 
surgeon  in  Richmond,  Va.,  with  whom  I  had  cor- 
responded, and  wlio  had  expressed  a  willingness  to 
investigate  my  case.  I  started  out  alone  and  went 
to  Richmond,  where  the  son  of  Rev.  J.  S.  Moser 
met  me  at  the  station  and  accompanied  me  to  the 
parsonage.  After  resting  and  taking  breakfast, 
brother  Moser  went  with  me  to  the  office  of  the 
celebrated  surgeon,  Hunter  McGuire,  whom  I  found 
surrounded  by  many  suffering  patients.  Brother 
Moser  announced  that  I  was  in  the  reception  room, 
and  the  kind  surgeon  granted  trie  the  special  favor 
of  an  immediate  interview.  Great  surgeons  always 
have  their  hands  full.  They  have  appointed  hours 
for  patients  to  visit  them,  and  those  who  go  into 
their  reception  rooms,  and  find  other  individuals  al- 
ready there,  have  to  be  patient  and  wait  their  time 
Dr.  McGuire  promptly  gave  me  the  opportunity  t 
consult  him,  and  I  found  him  to  be  a  very  plain, 
candid  and  clever   man.     After  taking   me  by  the 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SUFFERER.  89 

hand  and  requesting  me  to  occupy  a  seat,  he  re- 
marked, "  I  know  before  I  look  at  your  leg  what 
causes  your  awful  suffering,  and  I  fear  that  nothing 
can  be  done  to  relieve  you  without  greatly  endanger- 
ing your  life."  He  then  examined  me  and  expressed 
the  opinion  that  the  doctors  who  cut  off  the  leg 
had  unintentionally  injured  the  nerve;  that  the 
muscles  were  badly  emaciated,  and  the  surround- 
ing tissues  diseased ;  that  any  attempt  to  sever  the 
nerve  and  artery  would  produce  blood  poisoning  and 
that  nothing  but  re  amputation  of  the  diseased  mem- 
ber would  afford  any  relief.  He  added,  "  I  am  not 
afraid  of  killing  you  by  the  administration  of  cloro- 
form,  but  I  do  fear  to  apply  the  knife  to  that  poor 
leg — that  poor  leg.  I  think  the  flesh  will  rot  off 
and  leave  your  bones  exposed."  Discovering  the 
scar  where  Dr.  C.  had  cut  into  the  stump  of  my  leg, 
Dr.  McGuire  remarked,  "  You  have  been  a  very  un- 
fortunate man,  but  in  this  instance,  you  were  indeed 
very  fortunate  that  you  did  not  die  when  the  doctor 
made  that  useless  incision."  He  then  advised  me 
to  use  a  course  of  electricity,  massage  and  medical 
treatmeot,  and  to  be  at  home  with  my  family  when 
any  operation  was  performed.  When  I  was  parting 
from  this  eminent  surgeon,  he  kindly  requested  me 
to  feel  myself  at  liberty  to  call  on  him  again,  and 
let  him  know  any  developments  that  might  take 
place  in  my  case.     After  this  interview,  I  returned 


90  THE  LIFE  OF  A  SUFFERER. 

with  Rev.  Moser  to  the  parsonage,  and  spent  the 
remainder  of  the  day  in  pleasant  social  conversation. 
To  me,  this  was  a  day  of  great  bodily  pain,  but  the 
dear  brother  and  hisjgood  wife  did  much  to  cheer 
my  anxious  mind,  and  thereby,  to  some  extent, 
helped  me  to  bear  my  physical  sufferings  without 
complaint. 

Discouraged  by  the  opinion  of  the  surgeon,  I  con- 
cluded to  return  home  as  early  as  possible.  Brother 
Moser  kindly  secured  a  berth  in  a  sleeping  car  for 
me,  and  bidding  adieu  to  this  family  of  faithful 
friends,  I  left  Richmond,  and  by  daylight  next 
morning  was  not  far  from  my  home  and  family  in 
Salisbury.  My  return  from  Richmond  without  re- 
lief was  a  sore  disappointment  to  me. 

"0  blows  that  smite  !  0  hurts  that  pierce 
This  shrinking  heart  of  mine  ! 
What  are  ye  but  the  Master's  tools 
Forming  a  work  divine  ? 
0  hopes  that  crumble  to  my  feet, 
O  joy  that  mocks  and  flies, 
What  are  ye  but  the  clogs  that  bind 
My  spirit  from  the  skies  ?  " 

Several  weeks  after  I  came  home  from  Virginia,. 
Dr.  McGuire  requested  Rev.  J.  S.  Moser  to  write 
and  say  to  me,  that  he  would  come  to  Salisbury  and 
re-amputate  my  leg  if  he  thought  he  could  be  of  any 
more  service  to  me  than  other  efficient  surgeons,  but 
that  he  would  again  advise  me  to   have  my  family 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SUFFERER.  91 

and  friends  with  me  when  the  operation  was  per- 
formed. To  me,  this  counsel  was  plain  enough,  and 
I  immediately  turned  to  the  twenty  seventh  page  in 
the  Book  of  Worship  and  read  these'soul-inspiring 
words : 

"  Give  to  the  winds  thy  fears, 
Hope,  and  be  undismayed  ; 
God  hears  thy  sighs  and  counts  thy  tears  ; 
He  shall  lift  up  thy  head. 

Through  waves,  and  clouds  and  storms, 

He  gently  clears  thy  way  ; 
Wait  thou  His  time,  so  shall  this  night, 

Soon  end  in  joyous  day." 

To  add  to  my  burden  of  ever  present  pain  and 
mental  anxie'y,  my  afflicted  son's  disease  grew  worse, 
and  physicians  informed  me  that  his  leg  would  have 
to  be  amputated.  Notwithstanding  paroxysms  of 
great  pain  he  was  not  willing  for  the  operation  to  be 
performed,  and  I  did  not  feel  justifiable  in  pressing 
him  to  submit.  I  knew  what  an  awful  thing  it  was 
to  endure  the  pain  and  shock  and  extreme  weakness 
invariably  produced  by  a  surgeon's  knife.  It  is  a 
dreadful  thing  to  have  our  flesh  cut  to  pieces  and 
our  bones  severed,  and  I  will  not  persuade  my  son 
to  undergo  an  operation. 

1  do  not  understand  the  mystery  of  this  double 
and  dreadful  affliction.  But  standing  in  the  light  of 
the  nineteenth  century,  with  the  Bible  for  my  rule 
of  faith  and  practice,  I  believe  that  every  single  soul, 


92  THE  LIFE  OF  A  SUFFERER. 

sick  or  well,  has  a  place  in  the  heart,  and  is  taken 
into  account  in  the  purposes  of  Him  who  moves  the 
tempest,  and  makes  His  sun  shine  upon  the  un- 
thankful and  on  the  good.  These  dreadful  personal 
and  family  afflictions  would  make  me  wretched  in- 
deed, if  I  did  not  believe  that  the  Almighty  arranges 
everything  pertaining  to  me  and  mine.  Skeptics 
can  ask  me  hundreds  of  questions  about  God's  prov- 
idence that  I  cannot  answer,  but  I  shall  believe  until 
the  day  of  my  death  that  no  pang  ever  seizes  me 
but  God  decides  when  it  shall  come  and  when  it 
shall  go,  and  that  I  am«  overarched  by  unerring 
care,  and  that  though  the  heavens  may  fall,  and 
the  earth  may  burn,  and  the  judgment  may  thunder, 
and  eternity  may  roll,  if  I  am  God's  child,  not  so 
much  as  a  hair  shall  fall  from  my  head,  or  a  shadow 
drop  on  my  path,  or  a  sorrow  transfix  my  heart,  but 
to  the  very  last  particular  it  shall  be  under  my 
Father's  arrangement.  This  enables  me  to  anchor 
and  rest  my  soul  fast  and  firm  in  God  all  the  day 
long  ;  and  grasping  His  hand,  to  look  out  on  all  my 
mysterious,  double  and  dreadful  afflictions  and  say  : 
"  Thy  will  be  done  on  earth,"  if  not  yet  "  as  done  in 
heaven,"  still  done  in  the  issues  and  events  of  all j 
and  done  with  cheerful  obedience  and  thankful  ac- 
ceptance of  its  commands  and  allotments  in  my  own 
suffering  life.     Thank  God,  amid  my  intense  agony, 


THE    LIFE   OF   A    SUFFERER.  93- 

the  victory  of  faith  triumphs,  giving  me  entire  sub- 
mission to  the  will  of  the  Lord  ;  I  can  truly  say  : 

"  Pain's  furnace  heat  within  me  quivers, 
God's  breath  upon  the  flame  doth  blow, 
And  all  my  heart  in  anguish  shivers, 

And  trembles  at  the  fiery  glow  ; 
And  yet  I  whisper,  As  God  will, 
And,  in  the  hottest  fire,  hold  still. 

He  comes  and  lays  my  heart,  all  heated, 

On  the  hard  anvil,  minded  so. 
Into  His  own  fair  shape  to  beat  it, 

With  His  great  hammer,  blow  on  blow ; 
And  yet  I  whisper,  As  God  will, 
And  at  His  heaviest  blows  hold  still. 

He  takes  my  softened  heart  and  beats  it ; 

The  sparks  fly  off  at  every  blow ; 
He  turns  it  o'er  and  o'er  and  heats  it, 

And  lets  it  cool,  and  makes  it  glow  ; 
And  yet  I  whisper,  As  God  will, 
And  in  His  almighty  hand  hold  still. 

When  God  has  done  His  work  in  me, 

Lo !  I  say,  trusting,  As  God  will, 

And  trusting  to  the  end,  hold  still." 

This  full  acceptance  of  the  divine  will  in  regard 
to  my  personal  and  family  affl  ctions,  I  consider  the 
law  of  my  life,  and  the  best  tribute  of  homage  that  I 
can  pay  to  the  Most  High  God.  I  find  myself 
where  I  am,  and  as  I  am  ;  because  I  am  sick  and 
crippled,  I  need  not  be  useless  and  unhappy.  I  ac- 
cept my  situation  as  of  divine  appointment,  and  I 
try  to  be  content  in  it.     Lamenting  over  the  past 


94  THE  LIFE  OF  A  SUFFERER. 

will  do  no  good.  T  cannot  recall  or  change  it. 
Complaining  of  the  present  will  not  mend  it.  It 
may  make  myself  and  others  wretched.  Anxiety 
about  the  the  future  will  not  make  it  any  brighter. 
My  heavenly  Father  has  permitted  me  to  be  afflict- 
ed, and  allowed  things  to  be  just  as  they  are.  He 
knows  what  is  best,  I  know  He  loves  me.  I  will 
therefore  leave  all  with  Him.  No  rebellion  shall  be 
cherished  in  my  heart,  and  no  murmur  shall  escape 
my  lips.  My  Saviour  has  promised  that  His  grace 
shall  be  sufficient  for  me.  He  will  never  leave  me, 
but  be  a  present  help  in  time  of  suffering.  Trust- 
in  gin  Him  and  committing  all  to  His  loving  care,  I 
will  do  what  I  can  to  praise  Him.  I  will  make  the 
place  where  my  lot  is  cast  as  bright  and  cheerful  as 
I  can,  and  wait  with  patience,  saying,  aAs  God  will." 
While  I  remained  in  Salisbury  during  the  spring  of 
1890,  I  enjoyed  the  blessed  privilege  of  sitting  under 
the  ministry  of  Rev.  Charles  B.  King.  Brother 
King  delivered  beautiful  and  precious  discourses, 
well  calculated  to  enable  me  to  endure  my  intense 
sufferings  and  to  bear  my  great  burden  of  cares  in 
cheerful,  loving  trust.  This  minister  of  Jesus  Christ 
and  ever  faithful  brother,  published  the  following 
article  covering  my  visit  to  Baltimore,  and  also  gave 
an  account  of  my  physical  condition : 

"There  has  been  no    published  notice  given  con- 
cerning our  afflicted  brother  Fesperman    for  about 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SUFFERER.  95 

six  months.  Some  of  his  distant  friends  have  ex- 
pressed a  desire  that  public  mention  be  made  con- 
cerning his  condition.  This  request  accounts  for 
the  following  statements  :  Rev.  J.  H.  Fesperman 
moved  from  Barium  Springs  to  Salisbury,  N.  C, 
tho  first  of  October,  1889,  to  obtain  medical  advice 
and  treatment,  since  he  continued  to  suffer  great 
pain,  occasioned  by  the  sad  accident  in  which  his 
left  foot  and  ankle  were  torn  off,  and  the  unsucess- 
ful  amputation  of  the  limb.  On  account  of  his  weak 
physical  condition,  the  physicians  in  Salisbury 
could  promise  him  little  encouragement  in  case  of 
re-amputation.  He  therefore  decided  to  go  to  Balti- 
more for  further  consultation.  He  spent  ten  davs 
in  Baltimore  the  latter  part  of  October.  While 
there  he  consulted  the  most  distinguished  surgeons 
in  the  city.  Their  unanimous  opinion  was,  that  on 
account  of  his  heart  trouble  and  lung  trouble  he 
would  most  likely  expire  under  the  operation  of  a 
second  amputation.  He  was  advised  to  return 
home  and  await  future  developments,  and  that  if 
the  suffering  became  intense  beyond  undurance,  to 
submit  to  another  amputation  as  a  last  hope.  The 
skilled  physicians  in  Salisbury  agree,  in  the  main 
with  the  Baltimore  men.  Brother  Fesperman's 
present  condition  is  critical.  His  constant  sufferings 
grow  more  painful  each  day,  and  unless  there  be 
some  unexpected  change  very  soon,  he  thinks  that 


\)b  THE    LIFE   OF   A   SUFFERER. 

he  cannot  long  survive.  His  stay  in  Salisbury  has 
been  necessarily  accompanied  by  considerable  ex- 
pense. This  expense  has  been  borne  almost 
entirely  by  a  few  interested  friends.  Six  months' 
association  and  sympathy  with  the  brother  have 
brought  me  into  a  full  knowledge  of  his  condition 
and  trials.  These  statements  are  given  to  inform 
the  brethren,  and  to  lay  the  facts  upon  their  consci- 
ence." 

Charles  B.  King, 

Pastor  of  Lutheran  Church,  Salisbury,  N.   C. 

This  article  from  Brother  King's  pen  brought 
from  Messrs.  Carr,  Watts,  Strouse,  Trout  and  others, 
means  sufficient  to  pay  my  house  rent,  and  bear 
other  expenses  while  we  lived  in  Kowan  Co.  Not 
finding  any  employment  for  my  children  in  Salisbury 
we  returned  home,  where  they  could  work  on  the 
farm,  and  where  I  spent  the  summer  of  1890  in 
awful  misery.  The  "  neuroma  "  on  the  limb  kept 
growing,  quivering  and  jerking,  while  the  injured 
nerve  seemed  to  be  on  fire.  I  spent  many  nights 
holding  my  leg  in  an  elevated  position,  and  when  I 
slept  at  all,  I  frequently  dreamed  of  being  fast  in 
piles  of  logs  on  fire,  and  in  vessels  of  boiling  water 
from  which  I  could  not  escape.  Day  after  day,  and 
night  after  night  I  writhed  in  perfect  torture  and 
longed  for  cool  weather  to  come,  fully  believing  that 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SUFFERER.  97 

then  I  would  risk  every  danger  and  have  some  opera- 
tion performed.  I  could  not  and  would  not  say  that  I 
intended  to  take  my  case  in  my  own  hand  and  have 
the  leg  re-amputated,  even  if  I  should  die.  I  try  to  be 
ruled  by  the  indications  of  Divine  Providence.  A 
man  came  into  my  house  and  found  me  holding  my 
limb  and  enduring  extreme  pain.  "  Mr.  Fesper- 
man,  why  don't  you  have  your  leg  cut  off?  I  am 
diseased,  but  to-morrow  I  shall  go  to  Baltimore, 
where  the  doctors  don't  kill  people,  and  take  my 
case  in  my  own  hand  and  have  a  critical  operation 
performed  even  if  it  kills  me."  He  did  as  he  de- 
clared he  would,  and  now  lies  in  the  grave.  Not  so 
with  me,  no,  no,  God  afflicted  me  for  some  great 
purpose.  What  He  does  is  right.  I  have  been 
afflicted  eleven  years — suffering  indescribable  misery 
three  years,  and  when  the  hand  of  God  is  reached 
out  to  deliver  me  from  pain  or  restore  my  health  to 
me,  He  will  open  the  way  and  give  me  the  courage 
to  lie  down  under  the  knives  of  surgeons. 

I  shrink  and  shudder  at  the  surgeon's  knife — 
Each  nerve  recoiling  from  the  cruel  steel, 

Whose  edge  seems  searching  for  the  quivering  life ; 
Yet  to  my  sense  the  bitter  pangs  reveal 

That  still,  although  the  trembling  flesh  be  torn, 
This  through  God's  power  can  be  borne. 

Some  people  have  said  to  me,  "If  I  suffered  as 
you  do,  I  would  not  hesitate  an  hour.  I  would 
quickly  have  a  physician  to  remove  my  limb."  Such 

7 


98  THE   LIFE   OF   A  SUFFERER. 

language  is  rash — I  pray  that  God  may  direct  what 
is  best  for  me  to  do  in  regard  to  my  condition.  I  shall 
prayerfully  look  to  Him,  trusting  that  He  may 
direct  me.  Not  that  I  mean  to  be  stubborn,  I  am 
always  glad  to  receive  advice  from  my  dear  friends. 
Indeed  I  often  need  counsel  in  regard  to  temporal 
and  spiritual  things.  I  crave  it,  and  am  hearcily 
grateful  for  it,  but  when  it  comes  to  a  case  involving 
life,  this  all  belongs  to  God  and  not  to  myself  or 
the  doctors.  We  may  be  instruments,  but  God  is 
the  power. 

"The  gifts  of  birth,  death,  genius,  suffering, 
Are  all  for  God's  hand  only  to  bestow, 
I  receive  my  portion  and  am  satisfied." 

In  the  fall  of  1890  I  was  suffering  without  abate- 
mentj  and  I  determined  to  obtain  the  best  surgical 
advice.  Through  correspondence  I  made  arrange- 
ments to  have  a  personal  interview  with  some  of  the 
most  eminent  surgeons  in  Philadelphia,  Pa.  Writ- 
ing an  application  to  the  Richmond  and  Danville 
railroad,  I  solicited  a  pass  for  myself  and  wife  to 
travel  over  their  roads  to  Philadelphia,  Pa.  I  went 
personally  to  John  W.  Webb,  Esq.,  the  courteous 
agent  in  Salisbury,  who  received  me  with  Christian 
kindness,  read  my  application  carefully,  approved 
and  forwarded  it  to  the  officials  of  the  railroad,  and 
in  a  short  time  we  received  a  pass  to  and  from  Phil- 
adelphia,   Pa.     Messrs.    Webb,    Turk  and  Taylor, 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SUFFERER.  99 

officials  of  the  Kichmond  and  Danville  railroad,  have 
the  profound  gratitude  of  my  heart  for  the  generous 
kindness  they  manifested  toward  me  in  my  afflic- 
tion. 

In  November,  1890,  we  again  returned  to  Salis- 
bury for  the  purpose  of  locating  our  children  where 
in  case  of  sickness  they  could  be  near  medical  aid, 
and  where  the  pastor  of  St.  John's  Lutheran  Church 
could  occasionally  see  that  they  were  well  and 
prospering  while  we  were  absent  under  the  care  of 
surgeons.  But  every  time  we  had  necessary  arrange- 
ments for  the  journey  about  completed;  providential 
hindrances  prevented  us  from  leaving  home.  This 
interference  with  our  plans  was  noticed  by  our 
friends,  and  some  of  them  pleaded  with  us  to 
abandon  the  trip.  Once  when  we  were  on  the  eve 
of  leaving  home  for  Philadelphia  we  received  a 
letter  informing  us  that  our  daughter  at  Mount 
Pleasant  was  very  low  with  typhoid  fever,  and  that 
it  was  necessary  to  come  to  her  immediately.  We 
hastened  thither  immediately,  to  find  her  indeed 
dangerously  ill,  and  spent  three  weeks  by  her  bed- 
side. This  severe  sickness  and  other  unavoidable 
things  detained  us  until  the  limits  of  our  railroad 
permit  expired.  We  enclosed  and  returned  the  pass 
to  the  proper  authorities,  respectfully  asking  them 
to  extend  its  limits,  and  they  kindly  granted  our 
request.     In  March,  1891,  we  committed  ourselves, 


100  THE   LIFE   OF   A   SUFFERER. 

our  children,  and  all  our  interests  into  the  keeping 
of  Jesus  Christ,  and  went  to  Philadelphia,  Pa. 
Kev.  W.  M.  Baum,  D.  D.,  kindly  gave  me  a  letter 
of  introduction  to  the  celebrated  Dr.  Hayes  Agnew, 
and  he  was  the  first  surgeon  I  visited.  He  received 
me  cordially,  and  after  looking  at  my  limb,  re. 
marked,  "You  must  have  a  very  strong  mind  to 
endure  such  a  terrible  affliction  so  long  and  not  go 
insane.  Tt  is  indeed  wonderful  that  you  did  not 
lose  your  sight  and  mind,  and  die  in  less  than  six 
weeks  after  your  leg  was  amputated  and  fixed  up 
in  that  manner.  It  is  God's  work  that  you  lived 
thus  long.  That  knot  on  the  stump  of  your  limb 
is  a  neuroma,  brought  on  by  an  injured  nerve,  and 
that  leg  will  continue  to  get  worse.  Let  me  give 
you  my  advice,  cut  it  off — the  sooner  the  better. 
You  can  take  ether  if  skillfully  administered.  I 
will  perform  the  operation  for  you  if  you  go  to  the 
Pennsylvania  Hospital/'  Dr.  Agnew  stands  at  the 
head  of  his  profession  in  Philadelphia,  and  like  all 
great  men  is  modest  and  plain.  Dr.  Garretson,  the 
next  surgeon  I  met,  is  a  man  of  fine  countenance,, 
and  simple  and  agreeable  manners.  When  he  re- 
ceived my  letter  of  introduction  he  immediately 
walked  into  the  reception  room  and  gave  me  a  very 
hearty  welcome.  He  examined  the  limb  and  said, 
"  dissect  the  flap,  and  thus  try  to  save  the  leg  ;  and 
if  this    will   not  give  relief   cut  off  three  or  four 


THE    LIFE    OF   A    SUFFERER.  101 

inches  of  the  bones. "  When  I  left  he  kindly  remark- 
ed that  there  would  be  no  pecuniary  value  attached  to 
any  surgical  operation  he  might  be  able  to  do 
for  me.  Rev.  Samuel  Laird,  D.  D.,  made  arrangements 
for  me  to  see  Dr.  Henry  Beates,  a  distinguished 
young  surgeon  who  is  a  member  of  St.  Mark's 
Lutheran  Church  in  Philadelphia.  Dr.  Beates 
received  me  with  a  degree  of  cordiality  that  was 
as  grateful  to  me  as  it  was  unexpected.  He  made 
me  feel  at  home  the  moment  he  had  shaken  hands 
with  me.  1  found  in  him  a  beautiful  instance  of 
intelligence,  simplicity,  generous  feeling,  and  true 
dignity.  He  pronounced  my  amputated  limb  to  be 
a  u  piece  of  miserable  surgical  ignorance,"  and  said 
that  if  it  was  his  leg  he  would  cut  it  off  above  the 
knee  as  soon  as  possible,  but  that  it  was  necessary 
for  me  to  take  medical  treatment  previous 
to  an  operation.  Dr.  E.  Groodman,  chief  of  the 
faculty  of  the  Orthopedia  Hospital,  is  a  large 
man  with  fine  head,  face  and  mind.  He  is  a  mem- 
ber of  the  Church  of  the  Holy  Communion,  a  Luth- 
eran congregation,  of  which  Rev.  J.  A.  Seiss,  D.  D., 
is  the  honored  pastor. 

He  examined  me  at  his  residence  and  then  re- 
quested me  to  meet  the  faculty  of  the  Hospital, 
which  I  did  next  day.  Dr.  Goodman  said  to  his 
associates :  "  I  examined  that  leg  at  my  house  last 
night  and  have  thought  much  about  it.     I  desire,  if 


102  THE   LIFE  OF  A   SUFFERER. 

possible,  to  keep  the  knife  away  from  it."  Another 
surgeon  quickly  responded :  "  Is  the  gentleman 
afflicted  with  consumption  or  heart  disease?"  Dr. 
Goodman  replied :  "  Well,  well,  there  is  evidently 
something  wrong  with  his  chest,  and  we  wish  to 
avoid  the  knife."  A  third  surgeon  immediately  iu- 
quired  :  "  Doctor,  what  can  you  substitute  for  the 
knife  ?  "  Dr.  Goodman  answered  :  "  Try  electricity, 
massage,  and  medical  treatment  six  weeks  and  if 
these  things  do  no  good,  come  to  us  and  we  will 
take  the  dreadful  leg  off  without  money  and  without 
price.  Poor  man,  how  he  suffers!  Here,  nurse 
put  rubbers  on  his  crutches  and  bring  me  woolen 
bandages,  that  I  may  dress  his  leg,  and  then  show 
him  our  rooms  that  he  may  know  what  kind  of  hos- 
pital we  keep.  I  am  sorry  he  did  not  come  to  this 
place  immediately  after  his  arrival  in  Philadelphia." 

After  I  looked  through  the  hospital  I,  too,  was 
sorry,  for  I  found  it  to  be  neat  and  clean,  and  in 
every  way  well  arranged.  The  nurses  were  intelli- 
gent and  accommodating,  and  the  whole  institution 
bore  evidence  that  it  was  directed  by  able  and  good 
men. 

When  I  bade  adieu  to  Dr.  Goodman  he  said  :  "  Try 
to  bear  your  terrible  sufferings  without  the  use  of 
morphine,  for  it  is  the  very  spirit  of  the  evil  one. 
You  deserve  credit  for  not  using  it  to  alleviate  your 
intense   pain."     After    this   interview  I  met  many 


THE   LIFE   OF  A   SUFFERER.  103 

other  prominent  surgeons,  all  of  whom  pronounced 
my  condition  critical  and  expressed  the  opinion  that 
it  was  necessary  for  me  to  take  medical  treatment 
previous  to  an  operation. 

1  also  formed  the  acquaintance  of  four  Lutheran 
pastors  and  two  Lutheran  ladies  while  I  was  in 
Philadelphia.  Rev.  W.  M.  Baum,  D.  D.,  Rev. 
Samuel  Laird,  D.  D.,  Rev.  J.  L.  Sibole,  and  Rev. 
Edward  E.  Sibole  visited  me  in  my  room  and  gave 
me  much  important  information  concerning  the  hos- 
pitals and  most  eminent  surgeons  in  the  city. 

By  invitation  I  visited  Rev.  Dr.  B»,um  at  his 
home,  and  he  gave  me  not  only  a  courteous,  but 
very  cordial  reception ;  and  the  impressions  which  I 
had  received  concerning  him  were  fully  justified  by 
his  bland  and  engaging  manner,  and  the  elevated 
tone  of  his  conversation.  I  should  think  him  rather 
above  the  middle  size,  and  in  his  countenance  there 
was  so  much  of  both  intelligence  and  benignity  that 
it  was  difficult  to  say  which  had  the  preponderance. 
He  was  very  sociable,  and  yet  his  mode  of  talking 
was  quiet  and  gentle,  and  as  far  removed  as  possi- 
ble from  anything  like  pretension.  As  we  talked 
with  him  we  found  that  the  preacher  was  gradually 
giving  way  to  the  kind  and  obliging  friend  ;  and  we 
had  scarcely  spent  half  an  hour  in  his  company  be- 
fore every  idea  of  the  stranger  was  gone  and  we  felt 


104  THE   LIFE   OF   A   SUFFERER. 

a  degree  of  freedom,  mingled  with  reverence,  which 
might  very  well  have  been  the  growth  of  years. 

Rev.  Samuel  Laird,  D.  D.,  who  visited  us  several 
times,  is  a  tall,  erect  man,  with  a  countenance  indica- 
tive of  great  vigor  of  mind  and  strength  of  pur- 
pose, and  with  manners  the  most  unstudied  and 
familiar. 

Rev.  Edward  Sibole,  who  also  came  to  see  me,  is 
a  fine  man,  and  united  in  his  manner  great  dignity 
and  seriousness,  with  simplicity  and  affability. 

Rev.  J.  L.  Sibole,  who  visited  us  more  frequently 
than  any  other  pastor  in  Philadelphia,  is  a  man  of 
great  simplicity  of  manner,  entire  freedom  in  con- 
versation, excellent  judgment  and  a  heart  overflow- 
ing with  generous  impulses.  I  was  greatly  impressed 
with  his  simple  and  cordial  manners  and  felt  from 
the  moment  he  entered  my  room  a  conviction  that 
he  was  indeed  a  brother  in  Christ  who  truly  sym- 
pathized with  me  in  my  sore  affliction. 

His  prayers  in  my  behalf,  though  simple  as  the 
language  of  childhood,  were  yet  so  rich  in  evangel- 
ical thought,  and  withal  so  beautiful  and  faultless 
in  expression,  that  it  was  difficult  for  me  to  believe 
that  the}T  had  not  been  elaborated  with  devout  care. 
These  prayers  were  exceedingly  appropriate,  and 
comforting.     I  look  back  to    my  brief   association 


THE   LIFE   OF   A   SUFFERER.  105 

with  this  devout  Christian  brother,  with  grateful  and 
pleasant  recollections. 

I  had  consulted  many  eminent  surgeons  and  they 
all  decided  that  my  leg  would  have  to  be  re- 
amputated,  and  some  of  them  impressed  upon  me 
the  great  necessity  of  taking  medical  treatment 
prior  to  such  an  operation.  Bat  1  was  not  pre- 
pared to  remain  in  the  city  six  weeks  to  take  the 
treatment  mentioned.  Hospitals  where  the  patient 
will  permit  his  body  to  become  material  for  the 
knives  of  inexperienced  young  surgeons,  or  students 
in  surgery,  will  allow  low  rates  of  board  to  those 
who  enter  their  walls  and  accept  their  treat- 
ment. I  had  already  acquired  sufficient  bitter  expe- 
rience to  be  fully  aware  of  what  dreadful  suffering 
surgical  knives  in  the  hands  of  inexperienced  men 
could  bring  upon  mankind,  and  I  was  constantly  on 
my  guard.  There  was  not  a  distinguished  surgeon 
in  Philadelphia  that  examined  my  limb  who  would 
have  charged  me  anything  for  his  services,  but 
every  one  of  them  preferred  to  perform  the  operation 
in  a  hospital.  Learning  that  room  and  board  in  a 
well  arranged  and  properly  manned  hospital  would 
cost  myself  and  wife  each  from  fifteen  to  twenty 
dollars  per  week,  and  being  among;  strangers,  and 
not  having  a  sufficient  amount  of  money  to  remain 
and  take  the  six  weeks'  treatment  previous  to  an 
operation,  we  decided  to  return  home,  where  we  now 


106  THE   LIFE   OF   A   SUFFERER. 

suffer,  pray  and  await  the  will  of  our  precious 
Saviour.  We  can  truly  say,  God  bless  the  surgeons 
in  Philadelphia,  Pa.,  for  they  treated  us  with  great 
delicacy  of  feeling  and  kindness  of  heart.  Some  of 
them  remarked  to  me,  "  The  world  cannot  know 
your  terrible  sufferings,  but  we  understand  the  in- 
tensity of  your  pain  and  we  pity  you.  We  cannot 
relieve  you  in  any  way  except  to  remove  vour  leg, 
and  this  kind  of  operation  will  greatly  endanger 
your  life."  Thus  situated  I  do  not  seek  to  under- 
stand the  mystery  of  my  trials — 

"  But  blindfolded  and  alone  I  stand, 

With  unknown  thresholds  on  each  hand  ; 
The  darkness  deepens  as  I  grope, 
Afraid  to  fear,  afraid  to  hope ; 
Yet  this  one  thing  I  learn  to  know 

Each  day  more  surely  as  1  go, 
That  doors  are  open,  ways  are  made, 

Burdens  lifted,  or  are  laid, 
By  some  great  law  unseen,  and  still, 
Uufathomed  purposes  fulfill, 
'Not as  I  will.' 

Blindfolded  and  alone  1  wait, 

Loss  seems  too  bitter,  gain  too  late  : 
Too  heavy  burdens  in  the  load, 

And  too  few  helpers  on  the  road ; 
And  joy  is  weak  and  grief  is  strong, 

And  years  of  bitter  pain,  so  long,  so  long, 
Yet  this  one  thing  I  learned  to  know, 

Each  day  more  surely  as  I  go, 
That  I  am  glad  the  good  and  ill 

By  changeless  law  are  ordered  still, 
'  Not  as  I  will.' 


THE   LIFE   OF   A    SUFFERER.  107 

"  Not  as  I  will !  "  the  sound  grows  sweet 
Each  time  my  lips  the  words  repeat ; 
'  Not  as  I  will,'  the  darkness  feels 

More  safe  than  light  when  this  thought  steals 
Like  whispered  voice  to  calm  and  bless 
All  unrest  and  all  loneliness, 
'Not  as  I  will,'  because  the  One 

Who  loved  me  first  and  best  is  gone 
Before  me  on  the  road,  and  still 
For  me  must  all  Bis  love  fufill ! 
'  Not  as  1  will.'  " 

I  had  gone  to  Baltimore,  Md.,  Richmond,  Va.r 
Phildelphia,  Pa.,  where  I  had  consulted  the  most 
eminent  surgeons  in  the  United  States  without  ob- 
taing  any  relief,  and  it  was  quite  natural  for  me  to 
return  home  under  a  great  weight  of  disappoint- 
ment and  sorrow,  but  no  grief  is  so  crushing  and 
hopeless  that  happiness  may  not  again  visit  the 
heart  where  trust  and  love  abide.  I  was  greatly 
disappointed  because  I  had  not  realized  any  benefit 
— my  trips  had  been  fruitless, — but  I  remembered 
these  men  who  went  stumbling  along  the  road  to 
Emmaus,  weeping  and  mourning  that  their  Christ 
was  gone,  poured  into  His  very  ear  the  tale  of  their  be- 
reavement. They  told  him  of  their  trouble,  that  they 
had  lost  Christ ;  and  there  He  was  talking  to  them. 
In  the  midst  of  their  deep  grief  was  their  victory, 
and  they  did  not  know  it.  Everything  seemed  to 
cut  off  all  prospect  of  relief  for  me,  but  trusting  the 
divine  promise,  "  I  will  never  leave  thee,  nor  forsake 


108  THE   LIFE   OF   A    SUFFERER. 

thee,"  I  made  the  name  of  Jesus  Christ,  the  an- 
swer to  all  my  doubts,  the  spring  of  all  my  courage, 
the  earnest  of  ail  my  hopes,  the  charm  omnipotent 
against  all  my  disappointments,  the  remedy  for  all 
my  sickness,  the  supply  for  all  my  wants,  and  full- 
ness for  all  my  desires, 

"  My  hope  is  built  on  nothing  less 
Than  Jesus'  blood  and  righteousness, 
I  dare  not  trust  the  sweetest  frame, 
But  wholly  lean  on  Jesus'  name ; 
On  Christ  the  solid  rock  I  stand  ; 
All  other  ground  is  sinking  sand." 

Being  once  more  in  the  midst  of  my  family  and 
friends,  and  suffering  increased  pain,  I  fully  resolv- 
ed that  after  the  meeting  of  the  North  Carolina 
Synod,  when  Pastor  King  and  other  brethren  could 
be  with  me,  I  would  run  all  risks  and  have  my 
limb  re-amputated.  While  I  was  waiting,  a  boy  in 
the  town  had  his  leg  successfully  amputated  and  the 
time  consumed  in  the  operation  caused  me  to  de- 
cide not  to  have  anything  done  to  my  limb  until  I 
could  no  longer  bear  my  pain.  I  knew  that  if  the 
surgeons  North  were  correct,  I  could  not  lie  an  hour 
or  more  under  the  influence  of  chloroform  and  sur- 
vive its  effects.  It  affords  me  pleasure  to  state  that 
while  I  lived  in  Salisbury,  Kev.  Charles  B.  King 
and  wife,  Keissner  Brothers,  William  Smithdeal 
and  Mr.  and  Mrs.    Seyffert  showed    me  Christian 


THE   LIFE   OF  A   SUFFERER.  109 

kindness.  Miss  Katie  and  Mr.  George  Seyffert, 
two  excellent  young  people,  members  of  the  Luther- 
an church  in  Salisbury,  did  much  to  encourage  me. 
In  June,  1891,  1  returned  to  my  home  in  Iredell 
county,  where  I  spent  the  summer  in  perpetual 
torture.  My  nights  have  been  fruitful  sources  of 
imaginations.  For  nearly  three  years  my  sleep  has 
been  nothing  but  a  series  of  "cat-naps."  During 
my  wakeful  hours  I  pray,  and  listen  to  the  clock  as 
it  ticks  time  away.  1  think  of  hospitals,  surgeons 
and  their  knives,  and  speculate  and  wonder  how  I 
would  feel  if  I  were  free  from  the  pain  that  comes  to 
me  with  each  heart  throb  of  my  suffering  life.  My 
memory  recalls  the  time  when  I  did  not  know  this 
awful  misery — the  time  when  I  went  out  to  visit 
and  comfort  the  sick,  and  to  preach  Christ  to  perish- 
ing sinners,  and  I  look  forward  to  the  future  without 
prospect  of  relief.  I  remember  the  pleasures  and 
sorrows  I  have  experienced,  the  smiling  faces  I  have 
seen,  the  incidents  that  have  fallen  here  and  there 
along  my  life,  like  sunlight  through  a  prison  ;  the 
books  that  I  have  read,  the  places  I  have  visited, 
the  persons  I  have  met,  the  friendships  I  have 
formed,  the  lands  that  I  have  seen,  the  hearts  that  I 
have  gladdened,  or  that  have  gladdened  mine.  I 
recall  the  old  fireside  and  the  faces  that  used  to  be 
there,  the  times  when  I  have  knelt  at  my  mother's 
loom  and  prayed  for  her  life,  or  sat  down  at  the  table 


HO  THE  LIFE   OF   A  SUFFERER. 

when  the  children  were  children  still,  when  as  yet 
there  was  no  new-made  grave  in  the  church-yard. 
I  count  the  many  faces  1  have  seen  in  sorrow  ;  the 
eyes  in  tears,  the  broken  ties  I  have  known,  the 
dear  ones  in  mourning  and  the  number  of  graves 
along  the  pathway  of  my  life.  I  think  of  my  youth- 
ful days,  when  I  lay  with  a  broken  leg  and  gave  my 
heart  to  the  Saviour,  and  afterwards  came  forward  to 
the  Lord's  table  for  the  first  time.  I  remember  how 
I  watched  and  prayed  by  the  bedside  of  a  dying 
child — how  he  said  "  I  will  meet  you  on  the  shores  of 
the  mystic  Jordan," — how  with  slow  movement  I 
wended  my  way  to  that  sacred  spot  where  the  rich 
and  the  poor  meet  together— -how  with  utterances 
of  grief  that  no  earthly  power  could  suppress,  I 
witnessed  the  burial  of  my  first-born  son  and  how  I 
rode  home  with  a  broken  heart.  As  in  pain,  I  re- 
call these  things,  I  do  not  forget  that  years  have 
rolled  away  and  that  I  am  fast  stepping  toward  the 
sunset  of  my  life.  Life  has  been  to  mo  a  vale  of 
suffering  and  tears,  but  I  have  the  great  Comforter 
near.  I  cannot  sink  to  rest  like  the  valiant  prophet 
of  old,  with  my  eyes  undimmed  and  my  natural 
force  unabated  ;  neither  can  I  be  like  Caleb,  as  strong 
at  fifty-two  as  at  forty.  I  am  approaching  the  gates 
of  silence  like  Jacob,  leaning  on  my  staff.  But 
like  David  I  sing  in  my  confidence,  "  And  now,  0 
Lord,  what  wait  I  for,  my  hope  is  fixed  in  Thee." 


THE   LIFE   OF   A   SUFFERER.  J  1 1 

I  am  liable  at  any  moment  to  sadden  and  violent 
attacks  of  other  maladies  than  the  diseased  nerve 

whose  constant  grip  holds  me  in  perpetual  pain 

sinews,  joints,  muscles,  heart,  lungs  and  stomach  are 
more  or  less  involved.  My  lungs  hurt  me,and  when 
my  heart  throbs  hard  and  fast  there  is  thundering 
in  my  ears  like  the  beating  of  a  distant  drum;  but 
nothing  gives  me  so  much  agony  as  the  stump  of 
my  amputated  leg.  The  very  flesh  seems  to  be 
tearing  itself  away  from  the  ends  of  the  bones,  and  I 
cannot  conquer  or  even  alleviate  the  pain.  There 
is  a  constant  burning  cramp  around  the  end  of  the 
severed  bones  which  makes  my  life  wretched  beyond 
all  description.  Occasionally,  some  strong  and 
hearty,  but  thoughtless  man  looks  on  and  will  say, 
when  lam  writhing  in  extreme  pain,  "  Don't  think 
about  your  pain."  What  would  have  been  the  feel- 
ings of  the  sufferers  in  a  recent  railroad  wreck,  if  some 
stout,  thoughtless  man  had  stood  on  the  bank  of  the 
creek,  looking  at  the  piled- up  cars,  mingling  water 
and  blood,  and  listening  to  the  groans  of  the  dying 
and  cries  of  the  living,  and  at  the  same  time  had 
said,  "This  is  nothing  but  a  wreck,  you  have  only 
fallen  ninety  feet,  do  not  think  about  your  con- 
dition!  When  you  feel  the  flames  do  not  think 
about  your  pains."  I  have  only  had  one  or  two  such 
comforters,  but  their  advice,  kindly  meant  and 
injudiciously    expressed,    did    not     overthrow  my 


112  THE    LIFE   OF   A    SUFFERER. 

spiritual  equilibrium.  One  of  the  good  effects  of 
affliction  is  that  through  its  mellowing  influences 
our  hearts  go  out  in  a  more  tender  sympathy  towards 
others  who  suffer,  and  perhaps  sweet  flowers  of  pity 
and  compassion  will  spring  up  in  the  wet  furrows 
which  never  bloomed  there  before.  The  well  and 
prosperous  scarcely  know  how  to  sympathize  with 
the  afflicted  and  unfortunate.  It  is  just  those  who 
have  passed  through  some  crushing  trial  and  re- 
ceived a  baptism  of  suffering  who  are  the  first  to 
sympathize  with  others  who  pass  under  the  rod. 
"  One  tear  of  sympathy  makes  the  whole  world 
kin."  Until  men's  own  hearts  are  touched  with  sor- 
row, they  often  fail  to  give  to  others  that  beautiful 
and  tender  sympathy  which  falls  upon  the  stricken 
heart  like  the  refreshing  dews  upon  earth,  when 
parched  and  blasted  with  summer  drouth.  I  once 
heard  a  useful  pastor  say,  "  I  have  read  the  burial 
service  over  many  dead  children  and  returned  from 
the  church  yard  not  thinking  any  more  about  what 
I  had  been  engaged  in,  but  after  I  followed  one  of 
my  own  children  to  the  grave,  I  was  able  to  sym- 
pathize with  other  bereaved  parents.  When  I  was 
well  and.strong  I  frequently  visited  sick  parishioners 
without  entering  into  full  sympathy  with  them,  but, 
Brother  Fesperman,  since  the  hand  of  affliction  dis- 
abled me,  two  years  ago,  my  sympathies  have  been 
aroused  for  other  sufferers."     The  brother  who    re- 


THE    LIFE   OF   A    SUFFERER.  213 

lated  this  experience  to  me  was  a  faithful  Christian 
minister,  but  had  always  been  a  hearty  man  and 
until  stricken  down  with  disease  was  not  able 
to  realize  what  a  thorny  road  the  afflicted  have  to 
tread.  "  It  was  necessary  for  some  of  the  trials  of 
life  to  act  upon  this  dear  brother's  Christian  graces 
and  cause  them  to  send  out  their  fragrance  for  the 
refreshment  of  others," 

"  The  good  are  better  made  by  ill — 

As  odors  crushed  are  sweeter  still. 

Affliction  is  the  Christian  man's  shining  scene  ; 

Health  and  prosperity  conceal  his  brightest  ray  ; 

As  night  to  stars,  misery  lustre  gives  to  man.'' 

I  never  knew  the  time  when  my  heart  did  not 
reach  in  tender  pity  and  compassion  after  suffering 
humanity,  and  now  in  my  varied  and  severe  afflic- 
tions, I  have  the  comfort  of  knowing  that  I  enjoy 
the  sympathy  of  men  and  women,  and  more  espec- 
ially of  children.  I  often  share  the  simple  and  free, 
tender  and  reverent  sympathies  of  children.  They 
watch  my  face  and  movements  as  I  hop  on  my 
crutches,  and  I  have  overheard  them  say,  lC  I  wish  I 
could  give  him  back  his  foot  and  make  him  well 
and  happy  again.''  Out  of  the  mouths  of  children, 
the  loving  and  the  pure  in  heart,  God  has  given  me 
strength  and  comfort.  To  be  great  in  God's  king- 
dom is  to  be  a  little  child  in  the  sympathy  of  faitli 
and  the  purity  of  love.  Among  the  happy  experi- 
8 


114    '  THE   LIFE   OF   A   SUFFERER. 

ences  of  ray  suffering  life  are  the  friendships  I  have 
formed.  God  who  lives  and  reigns  not  only  here, 
but  also  where  the  compass  of  design  has  yet  to  cir- 
cumscribe the  paths  of  new  created  worlds,  and  the 
strong  pinioned  seraph,  moving  rapid  as  the  light 
can  never,  never  reach,  has  cemented  and  made 
stronger  the  friendship  of  my  brethren  in  North 
Carolina,  and  caused  friends,  whose  faces  I  have 
never  seen,  by  letters,  by  messages,  by  contributions, 
and  by  books,  to  knock  at  my  door  and  enter  in 
thus  bringing  joy  and  comfort  to  my  troubled 
heart 

"  I  have  some  treasured  letters, 

Fragments  of  the  sympathies  of  other's  lives — 
Precious  relics,  of  friends  not  yet  departed, 

Friends  whose  memory  still  survives. 
Touched  by  neither  time  nor  distance, 

Will  their  words  unspoken  last; 
Voiceless  whispers  of  the  present, 

Silent  echos  of  the  past. 
Such  a  little  thing — a  letter, 

Yet  so  much  it  may  contain  ; 
Written  thoughts  and  mute  expressions, 

Full  of  pleasure,  and  sometimes  fraught  with  pain." 

I  read  and  re-read  these  precious  letters  which 
conveyed  to  me  the  Christian  sympathies,  kind 
greetings,  best  wishes  and  loving  prayers  of  my 
brethren  and  friends,  and  it  gives  me  renewed  energy 
to  pray  on  and  be  patient  in  my  sufferings. 

During  the  spring  and  summer  of  the  year  1891, 


THE    LIFE   OF   A   SUFFERER.  115 

Rev.  George  A.  Cox  and  Rev.  Chas.  B.  King, 
President  and  Secretary  of  the  North  Carolina 
Synod,  laid  me  under  obligations  by  assisting  me  in 
an  official  capacity.  Mr.  William  Pore  and  his  now 
sainted  wife  deserve  my  deep  gratitude  for  special 
kindness  manifested  toward  me  and  a  dear  member 
of  my  family.  The  Rinker  sisters,  Hon.  J.  A. 
Gaisenhainer,  James  Fellows,  Esq.,  Rev.  Dr.  Bel- 
four,  Rev.  J.  P.  Krecliting,  Rev.  Jeremiah  Zim- 
merman, Mrs.  Lizzie  Funk,  friends  in  Erie,  through 

F.  H.  Schutte,  Esq.,  Rev.  Theo.  B.  Roth  and  Rev. 

G.  W.  Critchlow  have  helped  and  strengthened  us. 
We  have  received  from  them  words  of  affection,  of 
guidance,  of  comfort,  which  have  been,  as  water  in 
the  desert,  more  precious  than  gold.  There  is  a 
hallowed  character  in  this  friendship  which  gives  it 
a  warmth  and  sacredness  unknown  to  the  world. 
It  is  the  cherished  enjoyment  of  Christian  friend- 
ship that  fills  my  breast  with  some  of  its  most 
delightful  emotions.  Next  to  the  love  of  Christ, 
how  sweet  to  love  His  disciples,  to  mingle  our  sym- 
pathies with  theirs,  to  interchange  evidences  of 
affeqtion,  to  repose  in  each  other's  faithful  counsels, 
and  to  pray  for  spiritual  blessings  on  each  other's 
behalf.  In  the  friendship  and  sympathy  of  my 
fellow  men  I  plainly  see  the  footsteps  of  that  great 
God  who  is  indeed  the  only  Restorer  of  the  hopes 
and  Delivererof  the  souls  of  men,  who  has  promised 


116  THE  LIFE  OF  A  3UFFERER. 

to  hear  the  prayers  of  flis  suffering  people,  and 
whose  omnipotence  marshals  suns  and  systems 
without  name  or  number,  rilling  with  life  and  gild- 
ing with  light  myriads  of  worlds  untraveled  by  the 
wing  of  seraph,  unvisited  by  the  thought  of  man. 
I  verily  believe  that  Almighty  God  has  manifested 
special  providential  care  for  me  through  the  instru- 
mentality of  my  Christian  friends  who  have  pro- 
vided for  my  bodily  needs.  And  I  must  sincerely 
pray  that  as  they  remembered,  cheered  and  assisted 
me  in  my  continued,  desperate  personal  and  family 
afflictions,  even  so  may  our  dear  Lord  Jesus  Christ, 
who  holds  the  stars  in  His  right  hand,  listens  to  the 
cry  of  the  outcast  raven,  eyes  the  sparrow's  fall, 
numbers  the  hairs  on  our  heads,  and  gives  even  to 
the  thirsty  worm  its  dew  drop,  remember,  cheer  and 
fill  their  hearts  with  great  peace  and  joy  when  they 
lie  on  their  death  beds,  and  then  receive  them  amid 
the  rejoicings  of  the  harvest  of  the  souls  of  His  happy 
children. 

"Blest are  the  men  whose  feelings  move 

And  meet  with  generous  sympathy  and  love  ; 
From  Christ  the  Lord  shall  they  obtain 
Like  sympathy  and  love." 

I  doubt  whether  there  is  another  case  of  domestic 
affliction  and  extreme  personal  suffering  similar  to 
mine  in  the  United  States.  One  of  the  surgeon's  in 
Baltimore,  Md.,  after  obtaining  my  permission    for 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SUFFERER.  H7 

two  young  physicians  to  be  called  into  the  room  to 
see  me,  said  :  "  Gentlemen,  1  know  you  never  looked 
at  a  leg  resembling  this,  and  I  doubt  whether  you 
ever  see  another  like  it.  It  is  wholly  out  of  the 
line  of  all  surgical  operations,  and  will  never  get 
well.  It  will  get  worse  and  worse,  and  a  very  unt 
happy  feature  in  this  truly  unfortunate  case  is  tha- 
the  gentleman  is  hedged  in  by  other  diseases,  cutting 
him  off  from  enduring  another  operation."  A  few 
doctors  in  the  common  walks  of  life  are  reluctant  to 
express  their  opinion  concerning  the  operation  per- 
formed on  my  limb^but  the  eminent  surgeons  North 
and  South  who  have  examined  me  immediately  di- 
vulge the  secret  of  my  terrible  and  prolonged  suffer- 
ings. They  also  tell  me  that  the  "heroic  effort  of 
trying  to  secure  relief  through  re-amputation  would 
in  all  probability  at  once  prove  fatal  to  my  life." 
Such  information  imparted  by  men  distinguished  in 
their  professions  is  well  calculated  to  make  my  heart 
ache,  but  I  still  trust  God.  My  present  condition  is 
calculated  to  discourage  me,  but  there  is  a  peace 
born  of  struggle,  a  victory  secured  by  defeat.  As 
day  by  day  I  hop  on  my  crutches,  carrying  my  pain- 
ful limb  in  a  scarf  of  cloth  suspended  round  my 
neck,  looking  out  upon  the  world,  in  which  I  shall 
never  take  an  active  part  again,  I  feel  this  compen- 
sation, that  a  spark  of  the  eternal  world  dwells  in  my 
feeble  frame.     Whatsoever  befalls  the  hairs  that  get 


118  THE   LIFE  OF  A   SUFFERER. 

gray  and  thin,  the  withered  leg  that  pains  me  day 
and  night,  the  wrinkled  hands  and  the  heart  that  is 
worn  out  by  much  beating,  and  the  blood  that  clogs 
and  clots  at  last,  and  the  eyes  that  are  now  fast  fail- 
ing, and  all  the  corruptible  frame,  yet  I  shall  not  all 
die,  but  deep  within  this  crumbling  transient  house 
of  clay  that  must  tall  and4be  resolved  into  the  ele- 
ments out  of  which  it  came,  there  dwells  the  im- 
mortal guest,  an  ember  of  eternity,  which  the  ignor- 
ance of  men  can  not  destrov. 

"  The  leaves  of  the  oak  and  the  willows  shall  fade, 
Be  scattered  around  and  together  be  laid ; 
And  the  young  and  the  old,  and  the  low  and  the  high 
Shall  moulder  to  dust  and  together  shall  lie." 
The  hand  of  the  king  that  the  sceptre  hath  borne, 
The  brow  of  the  priest  that  the  mitre  hath  worn, 
The   eye  of  the  sage  and  the  heart  of  the  brave 
Are  hidden,  not  lost,  in  the  depths  of  the  grave, 
For  God  has  set  eternity  in  the  hearts  of  men. 

My  soul  as  well  as  my  body  has  a  history.  The 
spark  of  eternity  within  me  is  by  far  the  most  im- 
portant part  of  my  existence.  I  have  two  lives — 
the  outer  life  of  sense  and  suffering — the  inner, 
hidden  life  and  story  of  my  soul.  Beneath  the 
vicissitudes  and  fluctuations  of  this  crippled  body 
a  deep  current  runs.  My  visible  and  frail  material 
life  is  but  the  scaffolding  under  which  the  eternal 
life  is  rearing.  The  world,  that  notes  the  outward 
events  and  incidents  of  my  unfortunate  life,  discerns* 


THE   LIFE  OF  A   SUFFERER.  119 

after  all,  bat  a  part,  and  that  the  most  insignificant 
part  of  the  history  of  my  being.  I  might  narrate 
lhe  story  of  my  past  life  and  describe  with  all  min- 
uteness in  what  spot  I  was  born,  in  what  places  and 
houses  I  dwelt,  what  position  in  society  I  occupied, 
what  profession  I  followed,  what  money  I  gained  or 
lost,  through  what  external  changes  of  health  and 
sickness,  prosperity  and  adversity,  I  passed  :  however 
interesting  or  uninteresting  it  might  be  tocontem 
plate  the  strangely  diversified  allotments  of  my  being, 
yet  after  all,  in  narrating  them,  they  would  leave  still 
untouched  the  half,  and  by  far  the  more  important 
half  of  my  real  life.  There  has  been  from  the  dawn 
of  my  existence  a  mental  as  well  as  a  material  his- 
tory— a  life  of  the  soul,  a  course  of  inward  progress, 
a  series  of  changes  in  the  character  of  that  mysteri- 
ous dweller  within  my  breast  more  worthy  to  be 
chronicled,  fraught  with  interest  deeper,  more 
momentous  far  than  the  misfortunes  and  vicissitudes 
of  my  outward  career.  However  stirring  may  be 
the  narrative  of  my  outward  experience  with  heart 
disease  and  consumption,  broken  and  amputated 
legs,  crippled  children  and  injured  nerves,  consulta- 
tions with  surgeons  and  ever-present  pain,  there  is, 
to  myself,  a  deeper  pathos,  a  more  awful  and  ab- 
sorbing interest  in  the  history  of  the  struggles  of 
my  soul.  My  poor  physical  life  has  been  tossed 
about,  as  by  some  great  battle  weapon   wielded  by 


120  THE  LIFE  OF  A  SUFFERER. 

giant  powers  in  mockery,  but  in  this  better  part  of 
my  existence — this  little  world  in  my  bosom,  there 
is  a  seed  of  eternity  which  rises  up  through  ignor- 
ance, animalism,  clay,  up  through  fear,  failure,  blind- 
ness, up  through  bereavement,  double  affliction, 
constant  pain,  sorrow  and  sin,  up  toward  light  and 
liberty,  bearing  in  itself  the  germ  of  heaven,  quick- 
ened by  the  Eternal  Spirit  and  attracted  by  the 
ever-living  Son  of  God  who  causes  all  hindrances,  to 
become  helps  and  all  defeats  victories. 

"  Oh  happy  soul  that  lives  on  high 

While  men  lie  groveliDg  here, 
His  hopes  are  fixed  above  the  sky 

And  faith  forbids  his  fear. 
His  conscience  knows  no  secret  sting?, 

While  grace  and  joy  combine 
To  form  a  life,  whose  holy  spring* 

Are  hidden  and  divine." 

During  twelve  years  my  life  has  been  one  of  con- 
stant suffering  caused  by  various  maladies,  but  with 
all  its  sorrows  and  pains,  its  fightings  and  fears,  its 
tribulations  in  the  world,  its  severe  chastenings  from 
a  Father's  hand,  it  has  been  the  life  of  a  believer  in 
the  Lord  Jesus  Christ. 

I  can  reach  no  higher  than  the  Son  of  God, 
The  perfect  Head  and  Pattern  of  mankind, 
"  Perfect  through  suffering,"  my  salvation's  seal 
Set  in  front  of  His  humanity. 

Every  pure   thought  that  rises  in  my   breast   is 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SUFFERER. 


121 


Christ's  suggestion  :  every   holy  desire  and  resolu- 
tion, the  proof  that  He  is  at  hand  ;  every  kindling 
of  the  spirit  into  devotion,  the  unconscious  recogni- 
tion  by  the  spirit  of  His  heavenly  presence  near. 
His  presence  and  love  cheer  me  in  langour,  sustain 
me  in  weariness,  soothe  me  in  sorrow  and  nerve  me 
to     endure     constant     pain   without    murmuring. 
Whether   sleeping  or  waking,  by  night  and  by  day, 
pain  is  ever-present  with  me.    I  enter  the  house  of 
God  suffering  pain,  I  hear  the  singing,  prayers,  and 
preaching  under  the  influence  of  pain,  and  in  pain 
remember  what  I  once  was— an  active  minister  of 
Jesus  Christ— what  I  am  now— a  suffering  believer 
in  Christ— and  what  I  shall  hope  to  be  in  the  world 
to  come— a  happy  soul  saved  by  the  precious  blood 
of  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ. 

"  My  pleasures  rise  from  things  unseen, 

Beyond  this  world  and  time, 

Where  neither  eyes  nor  ears  have  been, 

Nor  thoughts  of  mortals  climb. ;? 
"  My  hopes  are  fixed  on  joys  to  come; 

Those  blissful  scenes  on  high 

Shall  flourish  in  immortal  bloom, 

When  time,  and  pain,  and  nature  die. 

I  look  to  heaven's  eternal  hill, 

To  meet  that  glorious  day 

When  Christ  His  promise  shall  fullnll, 

And  call  my  soul  away.'* 

This  is  the  25th  day  of  December,  1891.     On 
this  day  nearly  nineteen  hundred  years  ago  Christ 


122  THE  LIFE  OF  A  SUFFERER. 

became  one  by  nature  and  law  with  man.  Hence 
the  lights  and  shadows  of  His  wonderful  history  as 
Son  of  man — God  of  seraphim,  made  flesh  and 
dwelling  among  men.  To  do  this  His  eternity  was 
invested  with  time.  His  Omnipotence  put  on 
frailty.  His  immensity  was  subjected  to  limitation. 
The  Ever-living  began  to  be,and  theSource  of  knowl- 
edge learned  wisdom.  He  was  found  in  the  rea^ 
form  and  structure  of  a  human  being,  "  born  of  a 
woman  and  made  under  the  law,"  and,  in  laying 
aside  the  grandeur  and  magnificence  of  His  past 
eternity,  in  becoming  man,  He  incurred,  for  the 
time,  substantial  misery  and  degradation.  He  who 
had  strewn  the  path  of  eternity  with  the  wonders  of 
Omnipotence,  and  lighted  up  the  mansions  of  in- 
finity with  the  emanations  of  His  bounty,  became 
a  houseless  wanderer  in  a  world  of  poverty  and  woe  ! 
He  who  was  infinite,  unmeasured  and  unapproached 
in  all  His  perfections,  circumscribed  the  infinitude 
of  His  being  to  the  dimensions  of  a  child.  He  who 
had  paved  the  heavens  with  the  blue  sky  and  strewn 
the  earth  with  flowers — had  given  to  the  one  its 
magnificent  jewelry  and  robed  the  other  in  vernal 
loveliness — had  not  in  His  humilation  where  to  lay 
His  head.  "  A  body  hast  thou  prepared  me,"  says 
our  Almighty  surety,  and  millions  of  immortals 
have  hailed,  in  this  single  sentence,  the  kind  rever- 
sal of  their  doom.    The  nativity  of  Christ  is  preemi- 


THE   LIFE   OF   A    SUFFERER.  123 

nently  the  display  of  God's  mercy  to  man.  It  was  a 
dispensation  of  kindness  meeting  us  when  most  we 
needed  aid,  and  meeting  us  with  the  very  kindness, 
which  most  of  all,  we  needed.  And  here  and  thus 
we  have  the  great  and  only  law  of  man's  return  to 
God.  The  nativity  of  Christ, — this  God  with  men, 
should  be  the  mainspring  of  every  person's  happy 
Christmas. 

As  I  sit  here  in  pain,  without  a  single  token  of 
sympathy  from  the  human  race,  I  am  profoundly 
grateful  to  God. for  my  precious  Saviour.  That 
Christ  came  to  save  me,  reconciles  me  to  the  numer- 
ous and  depressing  afflictions  of  my  life.  Amid 
them  all,  my  world  is  strictly  within  myself,  and  its 
openings  look  out  on  immortality.  Amid  the  vexa- 
tions and  disquieting  scenes  of  my  earthly  suffering, 
I  forget  not  the  song  of  my  pilgrimage,  "  I  live,  yet 
not  I,  but  Christ  liveth  in  me."  This  thought 
illumes  the  darkness  without  and  hallows  all  within. 

"  Shut  in,  shut  in  from  the  ceaseless  din 
Of  the  restless  world,  and  its  want  and  sin  ; 
Shut  in  from  its  turmoil,  care  and  strife, 
And  all  the  wearisome  round  of  life. 
Shut  in  with  tears  that  are  spent  in  vain, 
With  the  dreadful  companionship  of  pain  ; 
Shut  in  with  the  changeless  days  and  hours, 
And  the  bitter  knowledge  of  failing  powers. 
Shut  in  with  dreams  of  the  days  gone  by, 
With  buried  joys  that  were  born  to  die  ; 
Shut  in  with  hopes  that  have  lost  their  zest, 
And  leave  but  a  longing  after  rest. 


124  THE  LIFE  OF  A  SUFFERER. 

Shut  in  with  a  trio  of  angels  sweet, 
Patience  and  grace  all  pain  to  meet, 
With  faith  that  can  suffer,  and  stand,  and  wait, 
And  lean  on  the  promises  strong  and  great. 

Shut  in  with  Christ  !     0  wonderful  thought ! 
Shut  in  with  the  peace  His  sufferings  brought ; 
Shut  in  with  the  love  that  wields  the  rod  ; 
0  company  blest  !  shut  in  with  God." 

I  have  written  this  short  history  of  my  affliction 
in  a  perfect  agony  of  pain,  but  with  triumphant 
faith  in  my  Saviour.  He  wills  that  I  should  weep 
and  continue  to  endure  constant  suffering,  but  my 
tears  shall  be  like  David's  who  at  the  lowest  point 
of  his  fortune  plaintively  besought  God,  "  Put  Thou 
my  tears  into  Thy  bottle,"  and  with  the  same  breath 
exclaimed,  "I  will  render  praises  unto  Thee."  I 
have  had  bitterness  and  trials  in  abundance,  and 
many  hours  of  sadness,  and  many  hard  struggles. 
But  high  above  these  mists  and  clouds  of  wailing 
and  grief  rises  the  hope  that  seeks  the  skies,  and 
deep  beneath  all  the  surface  agitations  of  storms  and 
currents  there  is  the  unmoved  stillness  of  the  cen- 
tral ocean  of  peace  in  my  heart.  Taking  Christ  for 
my  Saviour  and  friend,  my  guide  and  support 
through  time,  and  Himself,  my  eternity  of  joy,  all 
discords  are  reconciled — and  "all  things  are  mine," 
whether  the  world,  or  life,  or  death,  or  things  pres- 
ent, or  things  to  come ;  all  are  mine,  and  I  am 
•Christ's  and  Christ  is  God's. 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SUFFERER.  125' 

"  0  let  the  world  go  on  and  sing 
Her  battle  hymns,  her  victor's  crown  ; 
I  throw  no  knightly  gauntlet  down, 
Nor  join  her  gay  processioning, 
Nor  court  her  smile,  nor  fear  her  frown  ; 
But  close  to  my  Saviour's  bosom  cling." 

It  is  now  January  the  17th  1892,  and  my  suffer- 
ings have  become  so  intense  that  I  must  soon  have 
my  limb  re-amputated  or  expire  with  it  on  me. 
My  friends  have  requested  me  to  try  to  endure 
my  sufferings  until  I  record  the  story  of  my  life — 
which  is  now  almost  completed.  The  climax  of 
fearful  exhaustion  and  of  dreadful  pain  I  feel  to  be 
close  at  hand. 

I  know  that  re-amputation  is  the  only  remedy  in 
my  case,  and  that  it  cannot  be  avoided  much  longer, 
but  in  regard  to  the  result  of  such  an  operation  the 
extent  of  any  foresight  does  not  reach  beyond  prob- 
ability and  amounts  to  nothing.  God  in  His 
wisdom  saw  it  not  best  that  I  should  have  the  means 
of  anticipating  exactly  what  will  happen  to  me 
when  my  leg  is  taken  off  the  second  time.  "  The 
hand  that  beckons  us  to  glory  waves  us  out  of  im- 
penetrable clouds.  We  walk  in  a  way  we  know 
not.  We  labor  for  our  Master,  but  never  know  be- 
fore-hand which  shall  prosper,  this  or  that.  We 
lay  wise  plans,  and  they  miscarry.  We  commit  gross- 
blunders,  and  they  are  overruled  for  good.  We 
run  toward  the  light,   and  it  goes  out  in   darkness. 


126  THE  LIFE  0F  A  SUFFERER. 

we  stand  shivering  in  the  darkness  and 
it  turns  to  light.  We  pray  for  joys,  and  they 
mildew  into  griefs.  We  accept  the  griefs,  and  they 
blossom  into  joys.  To-day  the  apple  turns  to  ashes, 
and  tomorrow  the  stones  to  bread.  We  exult  in 
some  prosperity,  and  get  leanness  from  it. 
We  murmur  at  some  adversity,  and  find  it  big  with 
blessings.  We  run  toward  open  doors,  and  dash 
our  head  against  a  granite  wall.  We  move  against 
the  wall  at  the  call  of  duty,  and  it  opens  to  let  us 
through.  The  lines  of  our  lives  are  all  in  God's 
hands.  What  shall  befall  us,  we  cannot  know. 
What  is  expedient  we  cannot  tell.  Only  this  we 
know,  that  God  would  shape  us  to  himself,  whether 
it  be  by  the  discipline  of  joy,  or  the  discipline  of 
sorrow."  Many  efficient  surgeons  have  told  me 
that  my  prospects  of  surviving  an  operation  are  ex- 
ceedingly limited  because  I  am  hedged  in  on  every 
side  by  serious  and  complicated  disease.  Thus  situ- 
ated, I  can  only  trust  God  and  pray. 

"  Oh,  Father  take  me  by  the  hand, 
The  way  is  long  and  I  am  weak, 
It  would  be  vain  to  strive  with  feeble  sense 
To  pierce  the  gloom  that  clouds  my  path, 
The  darkness  grows  more  intense, 
I  grope  along  the  narrow  way, 
Which  leads  up  to  the  mountain's  height, 
'Tis  dark  !'   I  cannot  walk  by  sight, 
Oh,  Father,  take  me  by  the  hand. 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SUFFERER.  127 

Oh,  Father,  take  me  by  the  hand, 
And  lead  me  all  the  weary  way ; 
Oh  let  Thy  presence  like  a  wall, 
Surround  and  keep  me,  day  by  day, 
Until  I  tread  with  blood  washed  feet, 
The  golden  avenues  of  Light 
And  in-exchange  for  feeble  faith, 
Receive  the  glorious  gift  of  sight." 

Bidding  adieu  to  the  readers  of  the  story  of  my 
suffering  life,  and  committing  myself,  and  family 
and  friends,  into  the  tender  care  of  my  precious 
Saviour,  and  making  the  guardianship  of  His 
presence,  the  watchfulness  of  His  unslumbering  eye, 
the  source  of  my  only  hope  here,  and  in  the  world 
to  come. 

I  remain,  in  resignation,  peace  and  faith, 

Joseph  Hamilton  Fesperman. 

Barium  Springs,  Iredell  County,  N.  C. 


FOR  USE  ONLY  IN 
THE  NORTH  CAROLINA  COLLECTION 


No.  A-368 


